Legacy
by Marcus S. Lazarus
Summary: Something is attacking innocent citizens in London, and when the League are called in to invesitage, they face the only foe that can surpass all of them...
1. The Beast is Coming

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League. On the subject, think of the Beast looking like Gary Oldman when he's in human form. (AN: Thanks to Clez for suggesting him, by the way)  
  
Feedback: In a nutshell... GIMME GIMME GIMME!  
  
Sean Molloy-1: All of them. It will take a while to work on, given that I've got some other League members I'd like to introduce, but once I'm done, the League shall meet the heroes from Marvel and DC Comics, and battle a foe like nothing they have faced before...  
  
LotRseer3350: Oh, you'll have to wait and see. All I can say is, check out 'Spirit Walk' for a slight clue...  
  
Clez: Here it is, hope you like it.  
  
Legacy  
  
_Shit_, James thought to himself, as he walked out of the club. Looking down at his hand, he stared idly at his few remaining pieces of money; a couple of notes, a few shillings, and various assorted small change.  
  
And to think, only a few hours before, he'd had nearly a hundred pounds on him. He'd been on top of the world, following his having played the best game of poker he'd ever played in his life, and he'd been heading home with a song in his heart and on his lips.  
  
And then he'd noticed the second club. It was a bit seedier than the sort of places he normally frequented (He may not have been as rich as some people, but he still had some standards), but he'd been feeling lucky, and decided to try and see if could he double his money before nightfall. Besides, if things turned nasty, he still had the pistol he'd once bought. At the very least, it should intimidate people long enough for him to get out.  
  
Unfortunately, his luck hadn't lasted longer than his first game in that club. He'd won an extra twenty pounds but, unable to quit while he was ahead, he'd kept on playing, even when he began to get bad hands. Eventually, just as he thought he had a definite win (Four aces), his opponent had played a straight flush, and he'd lost it all.  
  
Right now, as he stared down at his few remaining coins, he couldn't decide whether or not to use his pistol and take, as so many people called it, the gentlemen's way out, or hang on to hope and just try to muddle along with what little money he had.  
  
However, before he could decide, he heard a low growl come from an alleyway to his left.  
  
Glancing in that direction, James raised a curious eyebrow as he pulled out his revolver. He wouldn't call himself a courageous man, more of an inquisitive one, but he didn't think there was much here to be afraid of. The growl was probably just a dog or some other such thing; easy enough to deal with, if the need arose.  
  
After all, no matter how dangerous, a dog could never be a match for a human, especially one armed with a gun.  
  
Walking towards the alley, James quickly checked his pistol for bullets, Finding that he had indeed remembered to load the gun before coming out, he aimed it ahead of him and walked forward.  
  
"Hello?" he called out, feeling stupid for doing it even as he spoke. After all, what good would calling it do?  
  
Then again, on reflection, there was something about that growl that hadn't seemed quite like a dog's growl.  
  
Almost like it was a _human_ doing the growling...  
  
Suddenly, he heard something off to one side of him. It sounded like something had just fallen into a puddle of some kind, but the sound wasn't quite right. If he hadn't known it was impossible, he would have thought that it sounded like something was being thrown _out _of the water, rather than being thrown in.  
  
Starting to get scared now, James scanned the alleyway, trying to spot something that could have made that noise.  
  
"Who's there?" he asked, trying to sound braver than he felt.  
  
"Me," someone said, in a cold, harsh voice that sounded like the speaker was talking from the bottom of a deep pool. Spinning around to face the voice, James saw something standing at the end of the alleyway, although the shadows were so thick it was hard to see what it was. "And I have a message I want you to deliver."  
  
"Which is?" James asked, fingering his pistol as he held up in front of him.  
  
Chuckling slightly, the creature walked forward, stepping out of the shadows.  
  
James almost screamed at what he saw in front of him. It was huge, almost eight or nine feet tall, and covered in green scales all over the top part of its body, which was only covered by a few small shreds of clothing that seemed to be from a ripped shirt. It had a pair of trousers on, but those were its only clothes; even its shoes appeared to have been shredded, exposing long toenails. Its hands had similar nails, and its arms were nearly as thick as some of the trees James had seen.  
  
But it was the creature's head that really terrified James. The ears were long and pointed, and the forehead had around eight large horns sticking out of it. There were also several smaller horns around the creature's chin, in a manner that almost looked like the horns were the creature's beard. Its eyes were blood red, and its teeth were sharp and pointed, like an animal's.  
  
It grinned at James, its eyes sparkling with an almost pure evil.  
  
"To thank Professor Moriarty for his research," the creature replied. "I believe you'll find him in your next destination." The creature crouched down, and two large, bat-like wings sprouted from its back. "The afterlife."  
  
That was enough.  
  
Terrified, James fired the pistol at the creature wildly, launching off three bullets at it in rapid succession. Each one struck the creature's skin, but James couldn't even say if it even bruised this thing, whatever it was.  
  
Looking down at where the bullets had stuck its hide, the creature smiled a little as it looked up at James.  
  
"Nice try," it said, in a low voice that seemed absolutely covered with malice. "But not good enough."  
  
The creature crouched down on the ground, tensed its legs, and leapt towards James.  
  
Terrified, James dropped his gun, turned, and began to run. However, he'd barely advanced one step before he felt something dig into his back, and thought he heard something be torn out. He tried to keep running, but for some reason, nothing was working anywhere. He couldn't move his legs, his arms were immobile, he couldn't even breathe...  
  
As he fell to the ground, he didn't even have time to be grateful that his earlier decision had been taken out of his hands for him.  
  
He didn't even have time to wonder what had happened to him. However, as his eyes started to dim over, he saw something white lying in front of him.  
  
The white thing was his own spine. 


	2. A New Mission

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.  
  
Feedback: In a nutshell... GIMME GIMME GIMME! (Remembers queerquail's advice) Please?  
  
Clez: I try my best  
  
Crystal: Hope this was soon enough  
  
LotRseer 3350: I hope it fulfils your hopes  
  
Lady Norbert: Glad I've spiked your curiosity so far; I'll see what I can do to keep it that way  
  
funyun: Glad you like my monster, but believe me, you've yet to see everything that sucker is capable of... In regards to your last comment, maybe in cases like this it's just too disturbing to think of what's under those pants to have them be ripped as well.  
  
queerquail: It was meant to be.  
  
Sean Malloy-1: Can't promise that, but I'll see what I can do...  
  
Funky in Fishnets: I try my best. By the way, liked 'Rest in Peace'- keep it up!  
  
Accendo Caliendrum: Glad my story won your approval, but believe me, that isn't the only hideous thing this creature is going to do...  
  
Legacy  
  
"Salau!"  
  
Sawyer smiled a little as he watched the now-familiar sight of a red buoy flying over his head to land in the sea. It had only been a couple of days since he'd started using this method of shooting practice again; in recent times, he'd been too busy helping Skinner, Jekyll and Hartdegen master the art of the gun to worry about his own abilities on that front.  
  
But, when he'd found himself with some free time on his hands until the Nautilus went underwater again, and with Mina currently occupied with something else, he'd decided he might as well try this out. He was pleased to find that he hadn't forgotten how to pull off long shots like these; part of him had worried that he'd lost his touch for this sort of shot since his fight with Dracula all those months ago.  
  
"Nice one," a voice said from behind him, in a familiar cockney accent.  
  
Sawyer sighed in an overly theatrical way, and turned around to look at the floating coat and hat that indicated the current location of Rodney Skinner.  
  
"Tell me, Skinner," he said, sounding like he was angry with the thief for interrupting him, "is there an important reason why you sneaked up on me like this, or is everyone else occupied with something more important than simple target practice, and you didn't feel like interrupting them?"  
  
"The first one," Skinner said, much to Sawyer's relief; he had made it clear to the other League members that he would only tolerate being interrupted in his shooting practice if the League had a new mission. "We've received a call from old Large. He's waiting for you to reply."  
  
Sawyer smiled a little as Skinner said 'Large'. He knew what it meant; it was Skinner's personal nickname for Mycroft Holmes, but he only ever used it when he was with the League. The thief doubted that Mycroft would like it that much, even though it also referred to Mycroft's great intelligence rather than just his large waist size.  
  
"Right then," he said, slinging Matilda onto his back and looking over to the crewman who'd been firing the projectiles. "Thanks for your help," he said, smiling at the crewman in a friendly manner. "You can go back now; I'll let you know if I want to practice again."  
  
Nodding, the crewman picked the projectile device up and headed down the stairs into the main body of the Nautilus, followed closely by Sawyer and Skinner.  
  
"How's it going?" Skinner asked, as Sawyer pulled the door shut behind him and began to walk on down the steps, just a few paces behind the floating coat that indicated Skinner's presence.  
  
"The shooting? Oh, well enough," Sawyer replied, as he held Matilda in his hands and looked at the barrel. "I can see why Allan was so attached to this rifle; it really is a marvel." He smiled a little as he looked over at the former gentleman thief. "You know, it seems bizarre, but I sometimes feel like this thing improves my aim just by my holding it. Strange, I know, but, well..." He trailed off, staring at the gun with a slight expression of pride on his face before looking towards Skinner. "Anyway, where are the others?"  
  
"The main room," Skinner said, turning back to face the American. "The rest of us are waiting for you, and, last time I checked, old Large was on hold on the radio. You want to dump your gun off before you join us, or just go right there?"  
  
"I'll go there," Sawyer said, as they got off the staircase and began to walk towards the main hall. "I've probably kept them waiting long enough."

* * *

As Sawyer opened the doors of the meeting room (As he privately called it), he noticed with relief that the rest of the League appeared fairly relaxed, so he probably hadn't kept them waiting for too long. Mina and Jekyll were discussing some chemistry matter with each other, while Nemo and Hartdegen discussed some things about technology, with Terry sometimes chipping in from where he sat opposite them.  
  
Sawyer smiled a little at the sight; it was moments like these that really made him feel like the League wasn't just a collection of guys trying to save the world, but a genuine family.  
  
"I'm here!" he said, smiling at his friends, who instantly turned to face him. "So, where's the radio?"  
  
"Just here," Mina said, picking the mobile radio out of her pocket and passing it over to Sawyer. "He should still be on the radio; he's been waiting for you for a while now."  
  
"Good," Sawyer said, as he picked the radio up and pushed the call button. "Agent Tom Sawyer here now, Mycroft. What's the situation?"  
  
"Dire," Mycroft replied. "In fact, it would be safe to say that this threat is possible equal in scale to the crisis of Jack the Ripper."  
  
The League looked up at each other at that comment. None of them had been in London when the Ripper had stalked the streets, but they'd heard a lot in the news about his brutal methods, and had no desire to leave something worse than that to roam London.  
  
"Any special requests?" Sawyer asked the radio, praying that Mycroft wouldn't make any...  
  
"Yes," Mycroft replied. "We have reason to believe this foe is remarkably powerful. I would advise you to collect Mr's Frank and Logan before you get here; you may require their assistance."  
  
Sawyer groaned a little as he looked up at the rest of the League. Frank and Logan were nice enough people, but even Mycroft knew that they were strictly classified as 'League reserves'- they were only called in when the situation was extremely dangerous.  
  
This was _definitely_ not going to be an easy mission.  
  
"We'll be there as soon as we can," Sawyer said into the radio. "League out." He pushed the button that terminated the call, and looked up at the rest of the League. "You guys ready to roll?"  
  
"When are we not?" Skinner asked, smiling at the agent. Then his face fell. "Did I really just say that?"  
  
Hartdegen smiled at the invisible man and patted him on the back. "You did, Skinner. Looks like you're really getting used to this 'saving-the-world' business."  
  
Skinner swallowed, looked around himself for a while, and then smiled.  
  
"What the hell?" he said, smiling sheepishly. "Let's go."  
  
"Right," Sawyer said, looking over at Nemo. "Nemo, I know that, whenever I ask you to load up several guns, we rarely ever use them all, but could you possibly do it again, just in case? Oh, and be sure to let your crew know we're needed in London."  
  
"Of course, Agent Sawyer," Nemo replied, as he stood up from his chair. "Mr Skinner, Mr Nator, will you assist me in selecting our weaponry for this mission?"  
  
"Sure thing," Terry replied, getting up and walking after Nemo, who had already left the room and was heading towards the weapons locker, followed closely by Skinner, who had his hands behind his back and was looking at the floor as though trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Sawyer assumed the guy was just embarrassed at letting his mouth get ahead of his brain earlier, and didn't want to say anything any time soon.  
  
Sawyer looked over at Hartdegen. "Alex, head off in your machine and see if you can pick Logan and Frank up; I think we can be sure that Mycroft won't want to be kept waiting."  
  
"No sooner said than done, Tom," Hartdegen replied, as he left the room and headed towards the storage bay where he kept his time machine.  
  
Sawyer turned back to face Mina and Jekyll, the only two League members left apart from him. "You guys, you're with me," he said, as he turned around and walked out of the meeting room, Mina and Jekyll behind him. "Jekyll, we need to make sure you've got enough serum available for when we call in Hyde. Mina, I need you to help me make sure the car's at full power, in case we need it." He looked at his friend and his lover, and patted them on the shoulders. "Let's go."  
  
(AN: For Nemo's car, I'm assuming that Nemo has harnessed the power of electricity to make his car move, given that it was stated in _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_ that Nemo has harnessed the elements present in the sea to produce electricity to power the Nautilus, so I'm guessing he uses a similar principal for his car.)

* * *

In a vast forest, with no sign of human habitation anywhere near it, a lone man stood, facing a single tree.  
  
The figure in question was clad in only a pair of tattered trousers and a dirt-coloured shirt, with the shirt's sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched shut, and he had six long claws made of bone jutting from his knuckles, three to each hand. His eyes were shut, but his ears twitched a little as he listened to every sound around him.  
  
Then, as though on a signal of some kind, he turned around, leapt onto the tree, and began to scramble up it at a remarkable speed, as though he was a squirrel or some other tree-dealing animal. Thanks to his bone claws and his sharp toenails, he was soon several feet above the ground, and feeling fit enough to go all the rest of the way.  
  
"Everything going well?" a voice said from behind him. Surprised, Logan looked behind him, down towards the ground, and saw a large brass machine with a man standing beside it. Although he couldn't quite make out the man's face, he recognized the machine beside him easily enough.  
  
"Hartdegen?" he said, smiling a little as he slid down the tree. "What's with this surprise visit? I thought you said you'd call me when you wanted me?"  
  
"Well, that was the plan, but I forget to mention I could also track you down if I wanted," Hartdegen replied. "The radios I gave you and Frank have small tracking devices in them, programmed to provide a signal for my machine to target. It's only accurate up to a certain range, but it does its job." He shrugged. "Besides, based on what I know of you, you're more likely to be alone. Frank? Well, from what I've heard, he's been trying to blend into humanity a bit more lately. I figured I'd just pick you up and then try and track him down." He turned back to the machine, and then glanced behind him at Logan. "Are you coming?"  
  
Logan nodded. "Sure thing," he said. "Just let me grab my shoes and jacket, and I'll be right with you." 


	3. The Situation is Thus

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.  
  
Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.  
  
LotRseer3350: Yep, Frank's someone you'd know; he's the Frankenstein monster.  
  
Funky in Fishnet: To answer your question, Frank is the Frankenstein monster, as I mentioned above, and Terry is the Terminator; consult my earlier stories, 'Worlds at War' and 'Skynet Spreads' to find out how they ended up joining the League. Oh, and Hartdegen joined in 'War with the Future', just in case you want to know.  
  
Sean Molloy-1: I'll probably use the comic versions, since I'm more familiar with them, but we'll see when the time comes.  
  
AN: The following chapter contains later scenes of gore, just to warn you in advance. I've tried to keep it PG-13, but let me know if I overdid it.  
  
Legacy  
  
As soon as Logan had shrugged on his jacket and joined Hartdegen on the time machine, Hartdegen had hit the lever and started his machine on its journey into the next few seconds of history. As he moved one of the extra levers that allowed him to control the machine's movement, he reached into his left pocket and pulled out a small radio, which he passed to Logan.  
  
"Push the red button," he said to the mutant. "It'll let you talk to Frank at once, so long as he's got the radio on him. Once he answers, just ask him for his current location. I'll take it from there."  
  
Logan nodded, raised the radio to his lips, and spoke into it.  
  
"Hello?" he said, hoping he wouldn't have to wait long; whatever this machine was travelling through, it was slightly disconcerting. At present, he'd like nothing better than just to get out of this stuff. "Frank? Can you hear me?"  
  
A few seconds passed without reply. Then, "Hello?" a voice said on the other end of the radio. "Logan? Is that you?"  
  
Hartdegen and Logan smiled at each other. It was Frank; that much was for certain.  
  
"Who else would have this number?" Logan asked his friend. "Now, where are you at the moment?"  
  
"Florida," Frank replied. "The outskirts of St. Petersburg, about ten minutes walk away from the town itself. I'll see you soon?"  
  
"Fairly soon," Hartdegen said from over his shoulder. Looking around, Logan noted that the time machine had moved while he talked to Frank, and they appeared to be moving down towards Florida. "Logan and I are in my machine. We'll be joining you in a moment."  
  
"Right then," Frank said, sounding fairly happy to hear that bit of news. "See you soon."

* * *

As soon as Frank had terminated the call, he heard a faint sound that he recognised as the sound of the time machine coming. Smiling a little, he took the few seconds that remained to him as a chance to take one last look around his rented house.  
  
It wasn't that much, admittedly; just the basic essentials of human comfort and some old books he'd acquired from Nemo's library. However, it was home, and he almost found himself missing it even before he'd left.  
  
Then the brass form of the time machine appeared in his hall, and the early pangs of homesickness vanished, to be replaced by a new feeling.  
  
The anticipation of another adventure.  
  
Oh, the battles with the Martians hadn't exactly been a barrel of laughs; Frank would never deny that fact. But, as he saw the familiar faces of Logan and Hartdegen look at him with smiles on their faces, he found himself glad that he would be working with the League again.  
  
"Hey guys," he said, shaking the hands of his two friends, glad to see them again. "So, tell me, what's the situation?"  
  
"Serial killer in London, from what Mycroft's told us," Hartdegen explained. "We don't know anything else yet, but if Mycroft wants us to bring you two in, it's definitely serious."  
  
"Naturally," Frank said, as he stepped onto the time machine. "Then again, when is it _not_ serious for the League?"  
  
"Never, really," Hartdegen smiled, as he activated the machine and the surrounding house began to vanish. "Well, let's go; the League awaits."

* * *

The next day, Frank and Logan had been filled in on what little the League knew of the current crisis, and the League had loaded their usual supply of weaponry into the back of Nemo's car.  
  
With the essential business out of the way, all nine members of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen- the seven regular members and the two reserve ones- were now heading down the long flight of steps that led to the secret wing of the British Museum, where Mycroft had said he would meet them.

* * *

As they opened the door at the bottom of the steps, Sawyer groaned a little as he saw that the lights were off in the underground hall. He groaned a little again as he saw the rotund form of Mycroft Holmes sitting at the end of the table; he really hated it when people tried to make things all dramatic; in Allan's own words, based on what he'd heard from Skinner, he wasn't impressed with theatrics.  
  
"Mycroft, knock it off and get the lights on," he said to the large form at the bottom of the long table. "Not meaning to be rude, but we have a crisis going on here, based on what you told us."  
  
"True," Mycroft replied, as he stood up and walked down one wall, turning the room's lights on as he went. "However, while you were coming, things took on a slightly more desperate edge; the killer struck again."  
  
"What?!" Skinner asked, looking as though his eyes would be wide open in disbelief if anyone could see them.  
  
"Yes," Mycroft replied, as the League moved to sit down around the main table to listen to their Government contact. "We have acquired the body of the victim, and he currently lies in the morgue of the dissection laboratory back at Military Intelligence headquarters, should you wish to see him."  
  
"Believe me, we will," Jekyll said, for once letting his doctor's instincts speak despite his fear. "B-but in the meantime, could you tell us what is so deadly about this killer that you saw fit to call us about it?"  
  
"Gladly, Doctor Jekyll," Mycroft replied, as he picked up a file that was lying beside him and passed it to Sawyer. The spy opened the file and looked at its contents; a few photographs of some ruined buildings.  
  
It didn't look all that interesting at first glance, but when Sawyer looked closer, he realized that the damage done to the buildings appeared to match up to the shape of something that could almost be...  
  
"Hyde?" he said out loud.  
  
"What?" Jekyll asked, looking up from the photographs to look at Sawyer; the entire League had gathered behind the agent while he'd been staring at the photographs. "What about Edward?"  
  
"Nothing about _our_ Hyde," Sawyer explained, putting the photographs down and turning around to look at the doctor. "It's just that, while I may be overestimating the guy, this damage in these pictures looks like the sort of thing he might do, if he got mad enough and nobody was around."  
  
The rest of the League looked at the pictures. Then, after a few brief moments, Nemo shook his head.  
  
"That does not strike me as being the kind of damage that could be inflicted by Mr Hyde on his own," he said, looking around at his friends and teammates. "It reminds me more of the Fantom's Hyde; you remember, the one that battled Edward and I in the fortress?" he asked Jekyll.  
  
Jekyll's face, if it was possible, grew even paler than it had been before. "Oh god..." he whispered to himself. "Could he have survived?"  
  
"Unlikely," Mycroft put in from his end of the table. As the League looked around to face him, the large man continued to talk. "I am unaware of what, exactly, the Fantom's Hyde looked like, but it is unlikely to be him; glimpses have been caught of the killer, and the few details we have been able to gather suggest that this creature, whatever it is, is more like a reptile in appearance than a human being."  
  
"Well, that's something," Frank said, trying to smile a little, but he abandoned the attempt after he saw the expressions on the faces of the other League members.  
  
"Well," he said, trying to defend his statement, "all I'm saying is, if this creature _isn't_ the Fantom's Hyde, whatever that was capable of, maybe it isn't quite as powerful in certain regards as that was? Therefore, shouldn't we be able to take it out with all nine of us working together?" He shrugged. "Hey; no way can one creature be powerful enough to last for long against all of us, right?"  
  
Mina smiled a little as she looked down into Sawyer's eyes. "He has a point, Tom," she said to her lover.  
  
"I agree," Sawyer said, as he shut the file in front of him and looked up at Mycroft. "OK then, Mycroft, let's get down to business. What about we have a look at that body you mentioned earlier?"  
  
"Of course," Mycroft said, as he got up from his seat and began to walk towards the exit to the underground room, followed closely by the League. "I have a carriage waiting for me, so I shall simply follow on after you and meet you at Military Intelligence headquarters."  
  
"Fair enough," Skinner commented, as the League left the room, Terry pulling the door shut behind him. "See you there."

* * *

After a drive of thirty minutes and nearly ten minutes of passing through all kinds of security checkpoints (Quite frankly, Jekyll wasn't sure how anyone could go through all of those checks on their first visit to MI5), the League and Mycroft finally arrived in the department's morgue.  
  
"And people go through those things all the time?" Logan asked, flexing his fingers slightly from impatience. Of course, it wasn't like Jekyll didn't sympathise; he couldn't believe they'd actually had to have their fingerprints taken before they'd be allowed in any further, as well as fill out a questionnaire filled with some embarrassingly personal questions. Mycroft had informed the League it was to ensure that nobody could impersonate them to infiltrate Military Intelligence, but just because Jekyll understood it didn't mean he liked it. Sometimes, governments really got to him...  
  
_Who'd have thought it, Henry? You admit to a negative thing like hating the Government?_ Hyde asked him from inside his head, in a mocking manner.  
  
_Shut up, Edward,_ Jekyll replied, as Mycroft directed the League towards a table covered by a plain white sheet. _You and I both know I have negative traits; I just don't flaunt them as much as you do.  
_  
Hyde didn't reply to that. He just slipped into his now fairly constant bouts of silence; ever since Jekyll had started to gain more confidence during his time with the League, he'd been able to force Edward to stay quiet for a lot longer than he would have been able to in the old days.  
  
He sometimes wondered if he'd ever have the strength to keep Edward quiet all the time...  
  
Then he snapped out of his musings and focused on the table in front of him. Mycroft had already started speaking to the League about it when Jekyll tuned in, but it wasn't too hard to pick up on what had been said.  
  
"...site of the last attack," Mycroft was saying, looking at Sawyer and Mina while he spoke, from where they stood on either side of him. "Our best naturalists have been unable to determine what kind of creature would do this kind of damage; it doesn't match anything we know about. We're hoping that you nine will have seen something somewhere that matches the abilities of this creature; it may prove useful."  
  
Sawyer shrugged. "Well, we've seen some interesting things in our lives," he said, as he placed one hand on the sheet covered the table. "Let's see what we've got now."  
  
He pulled the sheet off...  
  
And Jekyll nearly threw up.  
  
He noticed that he wasn't the only one repulsed by what was lying on the table; Skinner and Hartdegen looked rather queasy as well, and the others, although more used to the sight of death then the others (Jekyll mostly withdrew into his mind whenever Hyde was killing his victims), were still shaken at the sight.  
  
Then again, they had every right to be. The body in front of them had formally been a man of around middle age, but mutilated beyond almost all recognition. His head was twisted around so that the neck was slightly twisted, and Jekyll could see a long tear running down the neck that revealed the reason for that was that the man's spine had been torn completely out.  
  
The man's clothes hung on his corpse in tatters, and his body was a combination of dark red and white wherever there was a tear.  
  
However, Jekyll realised that this wasn't because the man was covered in blood with his skin showing through in places...  
  
It was because his flesh had been ripped right off his bones.  
  
The red things Jekyll saw through the tears were the man's muscles, and the white things were the man's bones, which had been apparently left totally unharmed by whatever had torn his skin away.  
  
The man's head was missing several strips of skin as well, and his left eye had been torn out, exposing his brain. His thighs between the legs were dark red with blood as well, and, based on the disfiguring tear in the trousers, it looked as though someone had torn his groin out with its bare hands.  
  
Sawyer pulled the sheet back over the corpse, looking like he was trying to restrain himself from being sick. "Who was he?" he asked, looking up at Mycroft.  
  
"A young man called James Kilmep," Mycroft replied. "He had a fair amount of money available him, but often risked great quantities of it in high- stake games of poker. We have received information that he lost a great deal of money in a club near where his body was found, and that some of the people in the club overheard something going on outside later of the club. It is definitely the creature that we wish you to investigate, but we have been unable to determine what could do that kind of damage to a body. Do any of you-?"  
  
Jekyll started talking before Mycroft had finished his sentence.  
  
"I know," he said simply. "At least, I know something with a large enough mouth and a ferocious enough temper to do that amount of damage to a human body."  
  
"Yes?" Mycroft asked, curiously. "What would that be?"  
  
Jekyll swallowed. "If you gave him sharper teeth and nails... Hyde could do that."

"What?" Logan said, looking over at the doctor. "But I thought we'd agreed that Hyde couldn't do that kind of damage?"

"We'd agreed that _my _Hyde couldn't do that damage," Jekyll pointed out. "That isn't to say that something else could have done it." He groaned. "Dammit… if someone's modified my serum, we have serious problem."

The League looked over at each other, fear dawning in their eyes as that thought sank in. (Of course, no fear entered Terry's eyes due to his lack of emotions, but if he'd been capable of emotion, it would have been there)  
  
An altered version of Hyde.  
  
An almost certainly stronger version of Hyde.  
  
A far more powerful version of their most powerful member was stalking London, and the League didn't even know what the guy in question was capable of besides just having great physical power.  
  
Sawyer broke the silence that had settled upon the League at that statement. He pulled his Colts out of their holsters, spun them around his index fingers, grabbed the handles, and raised the pistols up to the height of his shoulders.  
  
"Let's go," he said, simply. "We have a beast to hunt."


	4. The Hunt Begins

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.  
  
Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.  
  
Elenrod: I'll do what I can on that front; I assure you of that.  
  
Clez: Glad you like it so far; things are going to get more interesting pretty soon...  
  
Sweetdeath04: Glad you liked your introduction to the world of LXG fan fiction; I hope you continue to enjoy these kind of stories.  
  
LotRseer3350: Yes it is. Regarding the Wolverine comment... maybe. He has battled the Hulk on occasion, and done fairly well in the fight. Regarding Van Helsing, I might include the Dracula one in a future fic, but not the Hugh Jackman one; he just wouldn't fit into the League's timeline.  
  
daveykins: Nice point about the Predator; I hadn't thought of that one.  
  
Sean Molloy-1: I did my best on the update front; hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long.  
  
Legacy  
  
"Great," Skinner groaned under his breath, as they walked out of the doors of Military Intelligence headquarters.  
  
It was raining.  
  
Skinner hated the rain. Even when he was young and visible, before being stealthy had become necessary for him to make a living, he'd never liked getting wet; as far as he was concerned, if you wanted to get wet, you should just go take a bath. Then, in his time as a thief, he hadn't liked the rain because all the puddles made it difficult to get anywhere without someone hearing, even if the rain was still on.  
  
Then he'd acquired his invisibility, and had started to hate the rain even more. It wasn't just the fact that he got incredibly cold while walking around in the rain in the stark; it was also the fact that the rain drops falling on him gave people at least a vague idea where he was, although in most cases it wasn't all that obvious.  
  
Skinner looked over at Sawyer, who'd put on the hat and coat that Skinner recalled him wearing when they'd boarded the _Nautilus_ for the first time. The young spy had a slightly fearful expression in his eyes, but his general expression had a look of determination as he looked at Nemo's car, standing out there in the rain.  
  
The thief groaned. He'd been partly hoping that Sawyer's show of bravado in the morgue had just been that; a show.  
  
Now, it was beginning to look like they were genuinely going after this... _thing_ that was killing people.  
  
Because it almost certainly wasn't human.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" he asked the young spy, looking over at the man who he personally considered his closest friend in the League. "I mean, wouldn't it make more sense to try and find out a bit more about this creature, before we-"  
  
"Find out more?" Mina asked, butting into the conversation before her lover could reply himself. "Somehow, Mr Skinner, I doubt that we shall learn anything new no matter how long we wait."  
  
"She has a point, Skinner," Logan put in. "Mycroft may not be the kind of guy who shares information that much, but he'd probably let us know if the creature had made any demands. Since it hasn't, I'm in agreement about tackling this creature before it can hurt anyone else."  
  
Skinner groaned. "Fine," he said, as the League walked down the steps towards Nemo's car, Skinner lagging behind in a sulky mood. "But don't blame me if everything goes wrong!" he said to Sawyer and Nemo as they got into the front of the car, the rest of the League entering the passenger area.

* * *

Jekyll sighed a little as he glanced over in Skinner's direction. "Could you possibly try and be a bit more positive about this mission?" he asked the thief. "Lives may depend on our finding this monster, and we don't need you complaining about things on top of everything else."  
  
"Hey, can you blame me?" Skinner asked. "Unlike the rest of you, I'm not exactly that good at combat against anything that isn't one hundred per cent human; even Tom and Nemo have their guns and swords!"  
  
Terry looked over at Skinner. "Tom Sawyer doesn't use a sword," he said.

* * *

Skinner groaned. "Terry, try to learn not to take everything we say so literally," he said, looking at the League member that always freaked him out the most.  
  
He'd never admit it to anyone, but, sometimes, he found Terry a bit unnerving; after all, a sentient machine from a future where the world fell apart? What was there about the guy to _not _freak you out?  
  
Besides, whenever he turned invisible in Terry's presence, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the guy was _watching_ him, even though nothing was meant to be able to see him...  
  
He'd never bothered asking Terry if his hunch was accurate or not; somehow, he didn't want to know for sure either way.

* * *

"So," Frank asked, looking over at Sawyer and Nemo in the driver's seat, "Where are we going now?"  
  
"The scene of the last murder," Nemo replied, as Sawyer turned the car down another street. "A simple deduction to make; criminals are often creatures of habit, as you all should be aware of from our previous missions."  
  
"Yep, that's certainly accurate," Skinner commented, looking over at the Indian scientist. "I mean, look at me; I made a _great_ living just robbing houses in one area of London!"  
  
Mina sighed. "Which is also the reason you got caught by Moriarty's men, Mr Skinner," she said, in a bored sort of voice. None of the League commented on it; she often used that tone when talking to Skinner. "Still, that factor should help us track down the creature before it can kill alone, especially if we dived our resources across the area."  
  
"Exactly," Sawyer said, still driving as he spoke. "Nemo, Terry, Frank? You're with me; we'll handle half of the streets. Hartdegen, you take Skinner, Logan and Jekyll and handle the other half. Mina, you'll be our air support, and also let each group know if the others run into trouble."  
  
"Perfect," Mina said, smiling.  
  
Terry looked out the window. "We're here," he said, as simply as ever.  
  
Braking the car on the kerb, Sawyer looked out his side window at what Terry had noticed.  
  
It was a rather large, rather ruined building that looked exactly like the building in the photographs the League had been shown in the British Museum. Sawyer had mainly been focusing on the road earlier, and must have missed the building himself because of the rain.  
  
Sawyer looked back and Terry, nodded his thanks, and then turned to the other League members.  
  
"Let's move on out," he said, as he opened the car door.

* * *

Outside the car, Nemo pulled out a couple of flare guns and handed one over to Hartdegen, keeping the second one for himself.  
  
"Fire those if you encounter the creature," he told Hartdegen. "If we do not see it, Mrs Harker shall, and we shall endeavour to join you as quickly as possible."  
  
"Right," Hartdegen said, as he slipped the gun into his pocket. "See you when we see you."  
  
The League started to walk away from the car, but Mina grabbed Sawyer's arm before he could really get started.  
  
"Be careful," she whispered to him.  
  
Sawyer smiled. "I always am," he told her. He kissed her briefly on the lips. "Let's go."  
  
Nodding, Mina leapt up into the air, turning into her bat form as she got higher into the sky.

* * *

Looking up after her, Sawyer smiled briefly at her vanishing form. Even when she was flying around with a bunch of bats, he found something about her remarkably attractive.  
  
Maybe it was the thrill of her keeping an eye on him from above that he liked about it...  
  
Shaking his head, he turned towards the others.  
  
"Let's go," he said.  
  
The two groups started walking, Sawyer calling out one last-minute instruction to the other group.  
  
"Meet back here in two hours if we haven't found anything!"  
  
Then he was out of hearing range of the other group.

* * *

Logan stretched a little as he walked through the streets, unable to shake the nagging feeling that he was being watched. Ever since Rose had... died... he'd found it difficult to feel comfortable in cities; he always felt like Dog was hunting him, still revenge for the murder of his father all those years ago...  
  
"Are you all right?" someone said behind him.  
  
Logan recognised Jekyll's voice, and looked back at the doctor in question. Hartdegen and Skinner had gone to check out a side street, giving the other two a chance to talk a little.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Logan smiled reassuringly. "Just... you know... I sometimes get a bit uncomfortable in cities like this."

* * *

"Really?" Jekyll asked. "Why?"  
  
He knew that Logan may not want to share with someone he hadn't really talked to that much, but he couldn't help it; he was insatiably curious about his fellow League members. He'd learnt all he could about the regular members, and had even managed to find out a bit about Frank, but Logan was the greatest enigma of them all.  
  
Logan sighed. "You have a right to know, I suppose," he said. "I was born into a wealthy family, with access to every comfort you could imagine. My parents took in an orphaned, red-headed girl called Rose to be my companion. We fell in love, but everything changed when I saw the groundskeeper, Thomas Logan, murder my father."  
  
Jekyll winced at that. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Logan could have felt like when that happened, but he doubted it had been a good experience.  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
"My claws emerged for the first time," Logan answered. "I killed the groundskeeper, but the village chased me out as a freak. Rose stayed with me, however, and we eventually found work in a quarry. Then..." he sighed. "The groundskeeper's son, known to all as 'Dog', found me, and tried to kill in revenge for his father's murder. When I almost dealt a killing blow, Rose... got in between me and Dog and I... I..."  
  
"You killed her by mistake, didn't you?" Jekyll replied.  
  
Logan nodded, tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. "I ran from civilisation after that. Drop in now and again, but I try and avoid it in general; I keep on feeling like Dog's out there, hunting me." He swallowed. "Or... that Rose is haunting me... _blaming_ me..."  
  
Jekyll placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Logan. If it's anyone's fault, it's Dog's; he shouldn't have provoked you. You can't blame yourself, you know."  
  
"I know, I know..." Logan said, looking up at Jekyll. "Someday, maybe I'll be able to forgive myself." He clenched his fists. "But I'll never forget it..." he whispered.

* * *

Before Jekyll could say anything, he heard a loud roar sound from further down the street.  
  
"What was that?!" Skinner yelled, as he and Hartdegen raced towards their comrades.  
  
"Well, if it wasn't the thing we're hunting for," Logan said, as his claws burst out from between his knuckles, "then I'd like to know what the hell it is."  
  
"Right," Hartdegen said, as he pulled out the flare gun and fired it up into the air. Watching it burn, he nodded in approval. "The others will be with us soon," he said, looking at his fellow three members. "Let's go."  
  
They charged down the street, Hartdegen and Skinner puling a couple of guns out of their pockets while Jekyll searched for his serum.  
  
_Time to see what this bastard can do,_ Logan thought to himself, mentally preparing himself for battle. 


	5. The Killer

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League. By the way, when the killer appears, picture him as looking like Gary Oldman, just to give you something to start with.  
  
Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.  
  
Sean Molloy-1: Nice guess, but it's FAR more dangerous than either of those two...  
  
Elenrod: Glad you liked the Mina and Tom Bits, and the Logan thing; I wasn't sure about it, but I figured I should mention it to establish his background at this time.  
  
LotRseer3350: Well, here comes the League's first fight with the creature- and by the way, I'm not ignoring the fact that Van Helsing is from the same era as the League, I just think that, him having killed a radically Hyde and Dracula and saved an equally different Frankenstein in the film, I don't think he'd work.  
  
Legacy  
  
As they charged down the streets towards the source of the scream, Hartdegen found himself praying that the creature wouldn't pull a vanishing act on them. Admittedly, Mycroft hadn't mentioned anything about _how_ the creature had never been caught, but Hartdegen was personally of the opinion that it was either a good climber or capable of flight.  
  
As he rounded the next corner, he noticed that Jekyll had opened a phial of his serum and was swallowing it even as he ran. Skinner and Logan slowed down slightly to allow Jekyll room to transform, while Hartdegen just tore on in front of the group.  
  
Part of him was wondering how he'd ended up leading the way in this charge, but he shook it off; the why wasn't important right now.  
  
What was important was that they find this creature before it could hurt anyone else.  
  
Hartdegen spun around another corner, hearing the now- familiar pounding of Edward Hyde's feet from behind him, along with Logan and Skinner from even further back...  
  
And froze at the sight.  
  
In front of him was a man, crouching on the street with a woman's body in his arms. The man's trousers were ripped at the bottom of the legs, his shirt hung on him in tatters, and his feet were bare. However, the most noticeable thing about him, even in the moonlight, was the fact that his arms were covered in blood up to the elbows.  
  
Hartdegen's gaze shifted to the body the man was holding, and he felt ready to throw up. He couldn't quite make out the form in the moonlight, but from what he could see of her, her clothes had been torn in several places, and her skin had been...  
  
Had been ripped off.  
  
Like the corpse in the Military Intelligence morgue had had its skin ripped off.  
  
"Stop that!" Hartdegen yelled, brandishing his gun in front of him and praying he didn't sound as terrified to others as he did to himself. "Get up and put your hands where I can see them!"  
  
Inwardly, he was feeling very confused. This man didn't look anything like the creature he'd been expecting in the least; he'd been expecting something larger.  
  
Then again, even if he wasn't what they'd been hunting, he was still a killer. If nothing else, they'd be making London a slightly safer place if they took him to jail.  
  
Then the man turned around, and Hartdegen instantly re-evaluated the danger the man posed to them. He had a small moustache and long grey hair, cut to a similar length to Sawyer's, and a focused glare in his eyes...  
  
And he also had a long strand of bloodstained flesh hanging from his mouth, which was covered in blood. If this wasn't their killer, it was a copycat killer.  
  
And that could never be a good thing.  
  
The flesh dropped from the man's mouth, and he got to his feet, not even bothering to wipe the blood from his face.  
  
"Do you have a death wish?" he asked politely.  
  
"No, but you do, it seems," Hyde said, walked forward to stand in front of Hartdegen. "Committing murders like that? Didn't you know that it would attract the attention of the Government? You're not exactly as quick as Jack the Ripper at moving about, you know."  
  
The man smiled. "Oh, I knew that I would attract attention, Edward Hyde," he said, looking directly at the large form with a small smile on his face. "In fact, I was counting on it."  
  
Hyde blinked in surprise.  
  
"You know my name?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, I do indeed," the man replied. Then he shifted his stance to a combat position, raising one hand to point at the League members. "Shall I show you what I'm capable of?"  
  
Hyde shook his head, smiling in an almost mocking manner as he looked at the man. "You picked the wrong foe to try and out-muscle," he said casually. "Somewhere along the line, I forgot how to lose."  
  
"Same," Logan said, as he extended his claws and aimed them at the killer. "By the way, what do we call you?"  
  
The man smiled, a smile that seemed to hint that he found this whole affair funny and nobody else had managed to get the joke.  
  
"Call me the Beast," he said.  
  
Then he leapt towards Hyde, tackling the man-mountain to the ground before Hyde could even start to throw a punch. Having struck Hyde, the 'Beast' (And Hartdegen was beginning to see why he'd given himself the name; he definitely wasn't a normal human being) vaulted back onto his feet, grabbed Skinner's pistol before the invisible man could react, had pointed it into the sky, and fired.  
  
Hartdegen heard a cry of pain. Glancing up, he could just make out a shape, falling from the sky some hundreds of yards away...  
  
Mina.  
  
This man had shot Mina from almost four hundred yards away, in nearly total darkness.  
  
He was good.  
  
_Even_ Tom _would have trouble pulling off a shot like that_, Hartdegen thought to himself as he leapt towards the Beast, in a desperate attempt to try and tackle him to the ground. _And he's pretty much the best shot with a gun alive in the world today. _  
  
Just before he could reach the man, however, his foe spun around, striking him almost directly in the side of his head. Hartdegen flew away towards a wall, but was thankfully caught by Logan before he could hit it himself.  
  
He looked up at Logan, and nodded his thanks. Logan shrugged casually and placed Hartdegen back on his feet before his claws popped out of his hands, and he leapt towards the Beast.

* * *

This time, the Beast actually took some damage before he threw his opponent away; three long scratches on his back from Logan's right claws. However, it didn't last; no sooner had Logan been thrown away, then the scars started to heal up with a speed that Skinner had only ever seen on two people.  
  
Mina Harker and Dorian Gray.  
  
_Oh crap_, he whispered, as the Beast spun around to face him, a malicious grin in its eyes.  
  
"Ah, Mr Rodney Skinner," he said, a malicious smile on his lips. "I should probably tell you, I've been looking forward to showing someone this trick for a long while. Who better than you?"  
  
He closed his eyes...  
  
And vanished. The only left were his trousers, which fell to the ground as soon as Skinner had registered the disappearance.  
  
No sooner had the trousers fallen down into a heap, something struck Skinner directly in the stomach, knocking his gun out of his hand and him off his feet. As Skinner flew through the air, he briefly found himself remembering the brick wall behind him. The brick wall he was flying towards even as he spoke...  
  
He wasn't going to survive this.  
  
Just as that thought flashed across his mind, something grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his mad hurtle through the air almost as suddenly as it had started.  
  
Skinner blinked. He was slightly shaken, but he was otherwise in perfect shape.  
  
Looking back, he saw who had caught him.  
  
It was Terry.  
  
He smiled at the robot; freaky or not, Terry was still an ally, and allies were something they appeared in desperate need of.  
  
Terry smiled back at Skinner, before placing Skinner back down on his feet and spinning around to strike something Skinner couldn't see with a powerful punch. A slight thump was heard, and then the Beast had reappeared in front of the two of them, now with a slight bruise on his cheek.  
  
The Beast looked up at Terry, looking, if possible, even more ticked off than he had before. "How the hell'd you do that?" he asked, rubbing his bruise.  
  
"Mostly because you weren't expecting me to do it," Terry replied, as Logan, Hyde and Hartdegen managed to regain their feet and circled around the Beast, determined that he wouldn't catch them off guard again. Terry looked down an alleyway, and smiled. "Here comes the cavalry."  
  
Following Terry's line of vision, Skinner saw Sawyer, Mina, Frank and Nemo come running down the street, although Sawyer was carrying Mina for some reason. Closer inspection revealed that Mina had a bullet-wound in her left thigh, which, even with her vampire healing powers, wasn't something that would go away in a matter of seconds.  
  
"Ah," the Beast said, smiling as he saw the rest of the League walk, or hobble, towards him. "Agent Sawyer, Mrs Harker, and Captain Nemo! Good to see that the original League is still intact." He looked over at Logan, Hartdegen, Terry and Frank. "Although I see that it has acquired some new members since I saw it last."  
  
"'Saw it last'?" Nemo asked. "What do you mean that? We have never encountered you before, to my knowledge."  
  
"Oh, we never met face to face, Captain, I assure you of that," the Beast replied. "However, I do owe a great debt to three of you in particular, although I do resent the fact that you killed an old friend of mine."  
  
"What?" Frank asked, looking at the Beast in bafflement. "Would you mind telling us what the hell you're talking about?"  
  
The Beast smiled. "With pleasure," he said simply.  
  
He looked up at the sky, closed his eyes, and briefly appeared to be concentrating. Then his entire skin grew scales, turned green, and several bones burst out of his face. His hands and feet grew long, sharp claws, and his arms and chest suddenly bulged out with muscles that looked like they were at least as large as Hyde's.  
  
He looked at the horrified League with a grin.  
  
"Actually," he said, his voice now sounding like he was talking through a mouthful of water, "I think I'll show you what I mean."  
  
Then he struck out at the four newly-arrived League members with an unbelievably powerful right hook. It only knocked Frank and Mina to the ground, due to their higher-than-human endurance levels, but Nemo and Sawyer found themselves striking the ground that they'd been running along only a few minutes ago.

* * *

_If there'd been something behind them..._ Logan thought to himself.  
  
But then he shook that train of thought off. He couldn't worry about his friends right now; there was nothing he could do for them at present. All he could do was tackle this Beast (And he now saw exactly why the guy had called himself that), and hope that nobody would get killed in the process.  
  
He leapt towards the Beast, landing on its back just as it sent Skinner and Hartdegen flying after Nemo and Sawyer. As it turned around to face Terry and Hyde, Logan landed on its back, slashing at it with his claws as he did so.  
  
The Beast didn't even seem to notice the cuts. It just reached back, picked Logan off its back, and threw him at Terry.  
  
As Logan flew through the air and struck his friend, he found himself wishing that his healing factor was better than it was; with something this powerful, he couldn't be down even for a few minutes...  
  
But he couldn't fight the facts.  
  
He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

"Oh crap," Hyde whispered, as he looked up at the creature in front of him. He didn't know what it was, and Henry had no suggestions to offer either. All he knew for sure was that, whatever it was...  
  
It scared him.  
  
He, Edward Hyde, guilty of murders that could have horrified some of the most dangerous serial killers in history, was scared of this thing.  
  
If it could take out the rest of the League with so little effort, he doubted he'd have better luck, no matter how much more powerful he was than the rest of them...  
  
_But_ nothing _will stop me trying!_ Hyde thought.  
  
In a fit of desperation, he launched a powerful punch at the Beast's head, knocking it back by a few feet. Unfortunately, his fist struck one of the horns on the Beast's head, so all he succeeded in doing was scratching his hand.  
  
The Beast smiled at Hyde as Hyde tried to launch a second punch, despite the blood that was now streaming from his other hand. The Beast caught the flying fist and twisted the arm back, causing Hyde to wince in pain.  
  
The Beast leaned in towards Hyde, grabbing Hyde's other wrist as he did so.  
  
"I hope this shows you the truth," the monster whispered at Hyde. "You cannot stop me. You have no chance against me. So leave me alone, or die."  
  
Then he head-butted Hyde, knocking the far more human monster into unconsciousness.  
  
As Hyde fell into oblivion, one final thought crossed him mind.  
  
_Oh crap..._


	6. Aftermath

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

Sean Malloy-1: This soon enough for you?

Elenrod: It wasn't Hartdegen who shot Mina; it was the Beast. But, glad you liked Tom carrying Mina; I just figured it was the kind of thing he'd do.

Clez: Nobody's fault; the important thing is that you found out I'd updated, and you know who Logan is now. Glad you liked the line about Tom watching Mina take flight, and I can assure you the Beast will get his ass kicked in the not-too-distant future. Just give the League time to work out who he is and how he can do what he does, and they're set.

LotRSeer3350: You're right, but not quite there yet; he has nothing from Nemo, and as for the gun thing... well, I'll tell you this; _that _wasn't acquired from any of the League....

Drakena the Destroyer: He wasn't _meant _to be good news, so I'm glad to see that I've succeeded in that regard. By the way, the picture you mentioned sounded rather interesting; where is it?

Legacy

"Uuhh..." Logan grunted, as he slowly blinked his eyes open and looked around himself. He was relieved to see that all of the other League members were still there, although none of them looked like they'd come out of their last fight in very good condition; all of them had bruises, Hyde had some nasty-looking cuts on his arms, Mina's thigh was still bleeding, Sawyer's forehead had a large slash on it, and Hartdegen's right arm stuck out at an odd angle. However, Logan was fairly sure it was only a dislocated shoulder, so at least none of the League were permanently injured.

Getting up, Logan looked around, and noticed that Terry was beginning to wake up as well.

"Terry!" he called out to his friend.

The robot looked over in his direction, and nodded when he saw that it was the mutant who was talking.

"Logan," he said simply. "Do you know where the Beast has gone?"

"Nope," Logan said, shaking his head. "Unless..." He sniffed the air, and then groaned. "It smells like he flew away. If Mina was awake, we might be able to do something about that, but as it is, we can't." He looked over at the other seven League members. "Even if Mina was awake, it probably wouldn't do much good; that guy took us down without even breaking a sweat." He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched, hearing a slight slick from his back before he stopped. "How the hell can one thing be _that _powerful?"

"I don't know," Terry replied, as he walked towards the rest of the League, crouching down to pick up Nemo and Sawyer as he spoke. "All I know is, we have to get these guys back to the car, back to Military Intelligence, and then worry about what to do next."

Logan looked over at the large form of Edward Hyde. "I think we're going to need to come up with another means of transport for this guy."

* * *

Eventually, after much trial and error on the part of the two of them, Logan and Terry had managed to get the League back to Nemo's car. Most of the League they'd managed to put on the seats in the back, but Hyde was the real problem. It didn't look like his serum would be wearing off anytime soon, and, with the sun starting to rise in the sky, they couldn't wait around for him to turn back into Jekyll; some of the League members needed to have medical attention as soon as possible, and they didn't want to be found by the general public.

Eventually, they decided to just tie him on the roof of the car and drive back to MI5 that way. It wasn't exactly the easiest solution in the world, but it was all they could do at the moment.

* * *

"Dammit!" Logan commented, as he found himself having to grab Hyde as he nearly fell off the roof as the car stopped outside the MI5 building. He looked over at Terry with a reproachful glare in his eyes. "Next time you have to drive, go _slower_, OK?"

Terry looked over at Logan. "I thought that it would be best if we didn't spend a lot of time out in the open right now," he replied. "Whatever the Beast is, he is clearly possessed of phenomenal strength, and it would be unwise to stay somewhere where he can easily reach us for any length of time." As he spoke, he and Logan got out of the car and untied Hyde from the roof.

Terry looked over at Logan. "Pull him off the car by his feet, and then grab his left arm," he said to the mutant. "I shall grab his right, and, hopefully, we'll get him into the building before anyone else can see us."

Logan nodded. The two of them walked around to the back of the car, grabbed Hyde's legs from where they slumped over the edge of the roof, and pulled on his body. After a couple of tugs, Hyde slid off the roof of the car, and landed on the ground, still unconscious.

Logan looked up at Terry. "Can you believe how powerful that sucker was?" he asked his friend. "I mean, taking this guy out for this long with just one punch? What _is _he?"

"I don't know," Terry replied, as he placed one of Hyde's arms over his shoulders and hauled himself to his feet; even with his superhuman strength, Hyde was not the easiest thing to carry. "What I do know is that we need to have all our friends get checked over by a doctor as soon as possible, and the doctor here in the only one who will be prepared to help a group as unusual as we are. So help me get Hyde in, or leave."

Logan sighed, grabbed Hyde's other arm, and placed it over his shoulder. "Can't argue with that," he smiled, as the two of them started walking towards the door.

It wasn't the easiest thing they'd ever done, but, after only a few minutes, they had finally reached the door of the Military Intelligence headquarters, Terry kicking the door open as he entered it.

"Yes?" the man at the front desk asked, looking up at the three of them, but his expression changed to one of near-total shock as he saw Hyde. "What the...?"

Terry reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a small leather book, which he held up in front of the man. It was the League ID card that the Government had given the League after the Martian crisis; it gave them the status of official Government spies, but it didn't actually commit them to just the one Government. They had similar passes from the American Government, and the Indians were working on giving them some from them at the same time. The man instantly lost his confused expression and brightened up considerably.

"Good day to you, Mr Nator," he said, smiling. "What can I do for you?"

"Get the doctor," Terry replied, as he and Logan gently placed Hyde down on the ground. "Tell him to bring some help and all the equipment he needs to make a good diagnostic. And while you're at it, get Mycroft Holmes down here at once; We have vital information for him."

"Of course, Mr Nator," the man replied, turning around and quickly writing a couple of messages down on some pieces of paper. He then rolled the papers up, put them in two cylinders, and slid the cylinders into two similarly sized holes in the wall. Terry recognised the messaging tube system; they had a similar arrangement on the _Nautilus_, although they rarely used it these days. "They should be here shortly."

"Good," Terry replied. "Keep an eye on him," he said, indicating Hyde. He turned to face Logan. "Let's get the others in."

* * *

As Terry and Logan carried in the last two League members from the car- Skinner and Nemo, to be specific- Logan was relieved to see the large form of Mycroft Holmes standing in the hallway, looking around at the unconscious League members where they lay in the entrance hall.

"Ah, Mr Logan, Mr Nator," he said, looking up at the two of them as they placed Skinner and Nemo with the rest of the League. "What, pray tell, is the situation regarding our serial killer?"

"This isn't the place to talk about that kind of thing, Mycroft," Logan put in. "Take us to your office, and get the rest of the League to the medical centre. We need everyone up and ready by tonight."

"Really?" Mycroft asked, raising one curious eyebrow. "Well, then come right this way." He waved them towards a nearby door, before walking through it himself. As Terry and Logan entered the door, which led to a staircase going to the upper regions of the MI5 building, they heard a door open behind them.

Terry glanced back briefly as the door shut behind them, and smiled at Logan.

"The medical team," he replied simply to Logan's unasked question.

Logan smiled, and then the two of them started to walk up the steps after Mycroft's rather noticeable bulk. However, even though he was relieved that their fellow League members would be getting a sorely-needed check-up, he was more busy thinking about another problem.

What the hell was the Beast?

And how could they stop him before he killed again?

* * *

"So," Mycroft asked, as he sat down in his office and faced Logan and Terry across his desk, "based on the condition of your fellow League members, I think it's safe to assume that you encountered the killer I sent you after?"

"Oh, we did," Logan replied. "And may I say, Mycroft, that thing was so powerful that the only reason it didn't _kill _was it wanted to make us look like a bunch of idiots? Because I certainly can't think of any other reason it didn't take us down for good right then."

"It's powerful?" Mycroft asked, as he picked up a pipe and filled it, a habit that often reminded people of what they'd heard of his brother Sherlock.

"_Hyde _failed to damage it," Terry replied simply.

Mycroft blinked. "I would have thought that to be impossible," he replied, as he put the cigarette down and looked at Terry. "Edward Hyde is generally acknowledged to be the most powerful being this world has ever seen."

"This guy's bigger," Logan informed Mycroft. "I don't know _what _he is, but this bastard managed to knock all of us down without breaking a sweat, and I get the impression he was in a _good _mood at the time. Can you imagine what he'd be like when he's ticked off?"

Mycroft looked up from his desk, where he'd been slowly puffing on his cigarette while Logan spoke.

"Indeed?" he said, sounding more intrigued every minute. "This _is _interesting. Have you any plans as to how to stop this creature?"

"Well, we're mostly waiting for the rest of the League to wake up before we decide on our next move," Terry replied. "Come to that, where is the medical room in this place?"

Mycroft pointed at a door opposite his desk, on the adjacent wall to the door to the stairs they'd taken to the office from the reception area.

"Through there; the fourth door on the left," he replied, as Logan and Terry got up and walked towards the door. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?" Terry asked, looking back at Mycroft.

"Tell the League that I am grateful for their attempt to stop the killer, and that..." Mycroft smiled. "I hope they will recover from their injuries soon."

* * *

Logan nodded briefly at Mycroft, and then walked out of the door with Terry, not even bothering to thank Mycroft for the comment. The man meant well, but Logan had never really liked the guy. He may be the League's superior in rank, but Logan had never managed to view the guy as anything more than a glorified politician who specialised in criminals.

Besides, they didn't owe any genuine allegiance to the guy; he just called them whenever there was a problem going on that threatened innocent civilians. Mycroft was the equivalent of a graveyard, in Logan's opinion; you needed him to be there, but you didn't have to like him.

As that thought crossed Logan's mind, Terry opened the door to the medical bay. The two of them walked in, praying that their friends would be all right....

Because if they weren't, the Beast would continue to slaughter innocent citizens of London for no apparent reason.

And the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen could not allow that to happen.


	7. Hospital Detectives

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

Elenrod: Yeah, I would have liked to have included Tom and Mina as well, but it just wouldn't work with the plot. Don't worry; they'll feature more in this chapter.

Sean Malloy-1: I'll do what I can on the update front, but the 'Kill Bill' thing is something I can't do; I've never seen the movie, so I don't know anything about the characters.

LotRseer3350: Glad you liked the chapter, and here you have it; the League wake up, and they begin their plans to tackle the Beast...

Tonianne: Glad to hear that you like the story so far; I hope I don't disappoint you in the future.

Legacy

Sawyer looked up as he heard the door of the medical area open, and smiled when he saw Logan and Terry walk in.

"Hey there, guys," he smiled, trying to ignore the pain in his forehead as he sat up in his bed, looking around to see how the others were.

It could have been worse, he was relieved to see; the rest of the League were still unconscious, but, out of all of them, only Hartdegen seemed to have sustained any injuries beyond cuts and bruises, and his didn't seem to be anything more serious than a dislocated arm. A little rest and he'd be fine.

However, Sawyer doubted they would have the opportunity to have much of a rest. The Beast, whoever or whatever it was, was still at large, and there was _no way_ Mycroft would give the League time off from a few small injuries while something that dangerous was still around. Of course, Sawyer doubted the League would take the option of rest even if Mycroft offered it to them; whatever else happened to them, the League had vowed long ago that they would never shy away from a dangerous situation if innocent lives were at stake.

Well, maybe Skinner would get cold feet a couple of times, but...

Sawyer broke off that train of thought- it wasn't getting him anywhere- and turned to face Terry and Logan.

"Care to fill me in on how we got here?" he asked, indicating the medical room. "And once that's done, be sure to tell me anything you found particularly noteworthy about the Beast."

"You mean.... _besides _the fact that he...took all nine of us down...without breaking a sweat?" a voice asked from behind him.

Sawyer smiled; only one man would say something like that at a time like this.

"Feeling all right, Skinner?" he asked, looking over at the bed where the invisible thief was sitting up, rubbing a bruised head. As least, Sawyer assumed it was bruised; there wasn't any blood, and Sawyer doubted Skinner had just gotten a chance headache after that fight with the Beast.

"Oh, as well as can be expected," Skinner grunted, looking up at his friends as he spoke. "Quite frankly, I don't get why you want to see if we can come up with any more information about the Beast. I mean, what's there to know? He's just some unbelievably strong guy who can turn into an even stronger monster, and that's about it."

"No," Logan said, looking over at Skinner with a criticising expression on his face. "That's not it. I caught his scent while we were fighting, and, while it wasn't anything I've ever encountered before, there was something familiar about it."

"Familiar?" Sawyer asked, looking at Logan curiously. "In what way?"

"Well..." Logan said, as he thought over his answer, "it _might _just be my imagination, but it seemed to me that the guy smelt like... Mina and Hyde."

"What?" Sawyer asked, curious. "Mina and Hyde?" His face suddenly paled. "Please don't tell me this thing could be their _kid_?!"

"Unlikely," Logan smiled. "For one thing, it wouldn't take a genius to see that you and Mina love each other like no love I've ever seen in my life; she wouldn't cheat on you with Hyde. Of course, it might have happened before you two joined the League, but that doesn't seem likely either. Besides, I smelled something else in the process; something... new."

"Which was?" Sawyer asked.

Logan sighed. "I don't know. It seemed human, but there was something about it that suggested the person has been to some interesting places in his lifetime; I could smell a vague hint of some kind of exotic animal on him, as though he's spent a lot of time after that particular animal."

"Any ideas what animal?" Sawyer asked.

"No," Logan replied. "Nothing I recognised from home, and certainly nothing from in Europe." He sighed. "Great. We haven't got any clues as to who that bastard is, and none of the others are up and about yet."

"Correct... that...." a voice said from further down the room.

Sawyer looked up in the direction of the voice. "Mina?" he asked, getting out of bed and walking down towards a bed further down the room. He was correct; it was Mina who'd spoken, although she didn't look like she was in very good condition. Her face was even paler than normal, and, underneath her bed's sheets, there was a large red stain around her thigh.

Sawyer winced a little as he saw the fragile condition of the woman he loved. However, he tried not to show it; he and Mina had made it an unspoken promise in their relationship that, if one of them was weak, the other one would try to be as strong as they could for the sake of the hurt one. And if both were injured, then a similar theme applied; the one in better shape would have to act stronger for the other.

He slipped his left hand around her cheek, and turned her head to face him.

She smiled at him briefly. "How do... I look?" she asked.

Sawyer smiled a little as he brushed a lock of loose hair away from her mouth with his thumb. "You look beautiful, Mina," he replied, trying to draw her attention away from the pain she must have been feeling in her thigh. "You always do." _And you always will_, a part of him thought with a touch of regret; Mina's immortality meant she'd never grow old, while he would grow old and die...

But, in the meantime, he'd just enjoy her beauty.

Mina smiled a little. "Tom, much as... I appreciate... the flattery, could you... just be honest... with me here? My thigh's... in bad shape... isn't it?"

Sawyer sighed a little. There were times when Mina's ability to get straight to the point was a good thing, and times when it was an awkward thing. This was one of the awkward things.

"Yeah," he said, sighing again as he looked down at the thigh. "You took a bullet right to the hipbone from a pistol fired by the Beast. The doctors told me they'd taken the bullet out, but even with your vampire healing, you won't be up and about for a while yet."

"Great..." Mina commented, as she lay back down in her bed. "How did things go in the fight?" she asked, looking up at Sawyer curiously.

"Not well," Logan said, answering the question for Sawyer. "The guy flattened you, Frank, Sawyer and Nemo with one blow, took down Skinner and Hartdegen shortly afterwards, and then knocked me and terry out for a while. Not sure what he did to Hyde, but based on Jekyll's appearance," he indicated the bed where Jekyll was lying, having turned back into his normal form before reaching the medical room, "it can't have been good."

Sawyer, Skinner and Mina turned to look at Jekyll's body, or, at least, they did their best to look at the body; Mina and Skinner were in so much pain they could only just about turn their heads. However, they saw what Logan was referring to easily enough; Jekyll's arms were covered in cuts, and his right fist had a large wound in it between his middle and ring finger knuckles.

"Ouch..." Skinner winced. He looked over at the rest of the conscious League members. "Is he in the worst shape of the lot, or is someone even worse off?"

"No, that would be Frank," Sawyer replied, indicated the large form of the League's most private member.

"What? How?" Logan asked. "He didn't look that bad when we got him into the car; I thought that _Hyde _was the one in bad shape."

"As far as the doctors can tell," Sawyer replied, "he fell on top of Nemo's sword when the Beast knocked him back. The blade must have slipped under his shirt and stuck into his side, but it didn't go all the way through. Not an immediately problematic blow; just dangerous to a human if left alone for a long time."

"I see..." Logan said, looking over at the still form of Frank, who, he saw now, had a large bandage around his waist. "Will he be OK?"

"Oh, he'll be fine," Sawyer smiled. "You guys pulled him off the sword before it could go too far in, and his extra abilities include an increased healing factor. He won't win any fights with you," he indicated Terry at this point, "but he'll be able to hold his own against a normal human pretty easily."

"Not that it does us much good..." Mina sighed, staring up at the ceiling as she spoke. "That creature took us apart like we were pieces of rotten wood, and we don't have any clue as to how it go that power. We don't even know who it originally _was_."

"Wait a minute...." Logan said, raising one finger as he spoke. "I totally forgot about it until now... we _do _have a clue."

"Namely?" Skinner asked, wincing visibly as he turned to face his teammate.

"The fact that the guy managed to shoot Mina at a range of almost four hundred yards, in the dark, with only a _pistol_," Logan explained, as he looked over Mina, where she lay clutching her sore thigh. "I mean, it'd be hard enough with a rifle, but with only a pistol? How many people could pull off this kind of shot with that weapon, even in daylight?"

Mina raised her head at that comment, looking over in Logan's direction as he spoke.

"You said... it smelt like... a vampire?" she asked.

"Yeah," Logan replied. "Is that relevant?"

"Yes..." Mina replied, still not sounding in the best of health, but her vampire healing appeared to be helping her even as she spoke. "Vampire vision....in the night...is just as good...as normal human vision... is in the day." She looked over at Tom. "In the daylight... could you have made this shot?"

Sawyer looked up at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, and then nodded.

"Yeah, I probably could do it," he said, looking over at Mina. "It'd be a close one with my current experience in fights and aiming, but give me a little more experience in this sort of thing and I could pull it off."

"So, we're talking someone- apparently someone who became a vampire at some point or another- who's as good with a gun as... Allan?" Skinner asked, looking over at his friends.

Terry nodded. "Agreed," he said. "It is perfectly conceivable that Allan Quartermain could have succeeded in shooting Mina Harker at the range we are talking about. However, since the Beast is not him, and it is certainly not Tom Sawyer, we have no immediate other alternative as to what his identity is."

Sawyer suddenly clicked his fingers, inspiration striking home as he looked around at the other League members.

"I've got it," he said, looking around at the other conscious League members, a gleam in his eyes. "It all adds up; the powers, the aim, his claims that he owes what he is to three of us...

"The Beast is Colonel Sebastian Moran."


	8. Colonel Sebastien Moran

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

Elenrod: Glad you liked the Mina/Tom bits; I'll try and include more of those in the future.

Clez: Glad to hear you liked the last chapters, and I appreciate your saying you liked my Mycroft; I wasn't sure about him. And don't worry, the League will wake up soon, but, no matter what shape they're in, Moran won't go down easily...

tonianne: Glad I didn't disappoint; I'll trying and continue not doing so.

Drakena the Destroyer: I'm OK about you not being logged in; I appreciate getting reviews, and that's all I ask for. Don't worry, Jekyll will get better soon, but I'm a little confused as to how the Beast being Moran is amusing.

Kaudrim: Don't worry, I'll be explaining that one here.

Sean Malloy-1: I'll keep it in mind, but I can't make any promises.

LotRseer3350: Thanks for the pointer about the screwy line; I've corrected it. Also, regarding the Moran thing, he'd be familiar to Sherlock Holmes readers, but that's about it. Don't worry; I'm providing his backstory here, so you'll know who he is soon enough.

Legacy

"Colonel who?" Skinner asked Sawyer, sitting up in his bed despite the pain in his head. "Who're you talking about?"

"He was a member of Professor Moriarty's gang, back in the days when only Sherlock Holmes was aware of his existence as a criminal mastermind," Sawyer explained. "When we visited London to deal with the Martians, I asked Mycroft for access to Holmes's files on the Moriarty gang, so we'd be prepared for a revenge attack from any of his old acquaintances."

He sighed a little, got out of bed (Although he looked a little cold in his hospital nightshirt), and looked around at the others. "I'll tell you this for nothing; Moran was a very dangerous character. He was to India and its tigers what Allan was to Africa and its elephants, except he didn't earn as good a reputation for himself among humans as Allan had. Despite that, he was a man of iron nerve, and made a name for himself when he crawled down a drain after a wounded man-eating tiger."

"So, how'd he end up in Moriarty's employ?" Logan asked.

"Holmes had a theory that some individuals like Moran represent in their development the whole procession of his ancestors, and that such a sudden turn to good or evil stands for some strong influence which came into the line of his pedigree. The person becomes, as it were, the epitome of the history of his own family," Sawyer explained.

"Bit fanciful for a rational man like Holmes, in my opinion," Skinner said. "Well, based on what I've read about him, anyway."

"I don't quite agree with it myself, Skinner," Sawyer explained, scratching the back of his neck as he looked over at the still forms of Nemo, Hartdegen, Frank and Jekyll; with someone like Moran after them, he really hoped they'd regain consciousness soon.

"Anyway, whatever the reason, Moran made India too hot for him, somehow. Net result is that he fled to London, where he got a job as Moriarty's best assassin and chief of staff. After the guy's apparent death, he went solo until he was arrested in 1894 for the murder of the Honourable Ronald Adair, who was threatening to expose him for cheating at cards in a club; Moran could never abide loosing face."

"But if he was arrested, how's he running about with all this power?" Skinner asked, as he and Mina sat up in their respective beds, Mina wincing at the pain in her thigh.

"Seems easy enough to work out one part," Logan replied. "Moriarty must have broken Moran out of jail at some point in between Reichenbach and Moriarty's time as the Fantom." Then he looked over at Sawyer. "What I'm hazy on is how he's meant to have acquired this much wallop in between then and now."

"Simple," Sawyer replied, glancing over at Mina, Jekyll and Skinner. "He got it from Gray and M."

"What?" Skinner asked, slightly confused at that statement. "What the hell do you..."

His expression suddenly changed as inspiration dawned. "Oh my god."

"That is putting it mildly, Mr Skinner," Mina said, looking over at Sawyer with open fear in her eyes; evidently, she'd worked out what the spy was referring to as well.

However, Logan and Terry were still a bit behind their friends; they were intelligent enough, but they hadn't been there for the mission they were referring to.

"What?" Logan asked, looking from one League member to the other. "What the hell are you talking about?"

* * *

Sawyer looked over at Logan. "On our first mission, we were sent to Venice, apparently to provide security for a peace conference- 'we' consisting of me, Mina, Nemo, Skinner, Jekyll, and two others you don't know; Allan Quartermain, a legendary hunter, and Dorian Gray, an immortal. However, it turned out that the whole thing was a scam by this guy called 'the Fantom', also know as Professor James Moriarty, who wanted to use our powers in a war he would start."

"OK...." Logan said, as he started to see what his friends were saying.

"Gray, as it turned out, was an inside spy for the Fantom, sent to infiltrate the League and acquire samples from Mr Skinner, Doctor Jekyll and myself," Mina explained. "He succeeded in that endeavour, but we managed to survive his attempts to destroy the _Nautilus_, and, thanks to Mr Skinner spying on Gray, we were then able to track M to his secret Mongolian fortress."

"Once there, I planted bombs to destroy the fortress while Allan and Sawyer tackled M, Nemo and Hyde freed the prisoners, and Mina dealt with Gray," Skinner said, picking up the story from the vampire. "When we left the fortress, it had collapsed in on itself, apparently killing everyone in it."

"Everyone but Moran," Sawyer said.

"How?" Logan asked, looking around at the other League members. "How did he manage to get out?"

Mina looked over at Logan. "Simple, Mr Logan," she said to the enigmatic individual. "He was in the same room as the Fantom's scientists when the fortress started to collapse. Realising he would never get away from the explosion as he was, he grabbed all three of the serums that had been created, and..." she swallowed, "used them on himself all at once."

Logan stared in horror at that final statement. "You mean..." he whispered, half-hoping he was mistaken.

"Yep," Sawyer commented, looking over at Logan. "We're dealing with a guy who can not only shoot as well as, if not _better_, than me, but also possesses the powers of a vampire, the raw power of Hyde, _and _the ability to become invisible at a moment's notice."

* * *

Skinner groaned. "Well, now that we've got that part out of the way, can I just throw in my proverbial two cents?" he asked.

Sawyer sighed in an exaggerated manner. He could guess what Skinner was going to say, but decided he might as well let the thief get it off his chest.

"Go ahead," he said simply.

"Thank you," Skinner said. "Gentlemen, lady; we're screwed."

"Pardon?" Terry asked, looking curiously at Skinner. "What do you mean; 'We're screwed'?"

"Simple," Skinner said. "We can't _fight _this bastard, Sawyer! He's a one-man League! How the hell can we stop someone with all our powers in one body? We can't overpower him, we can't outlast him-"

"We _can _outsmart him," Mina put in.

"What?" Skinner asked.

"We can outsmart him," Mina repeated. She looked around at the forms lying in the other beds; Nemo and Frank were already starting to regain consciousness, and Jekyll and Hartdegen looked like they were going to be following their example soon. "We are not just raw strength, good shooting, and various assorted powers, Mr Skinner. We also possess some of the greatest intellects in the world at the present moment, both in terms of general knowledge and planning combat strategies." She looked over at Skinner with a determined gleam in her eyes, that put the thief in mind of when he'd seen her leave to confront Gray.

It was _never _a good idea to get in Mina's way when she had that look in her eyes.

* * *

"You have a plan?" Sawyer asked his lover, noticing the determined gleam in her eyes as well.

Mina smiled at the young spy. "I have the beginnings of one, Tom," she said. "I shall need your help in the finer details, but, otherwise, I believe I have the idea that will allow us to defeat the Beast." She turned to face the other League members. "Firstly, we need to wake these four up. And then..."

Sawyer smiled. He could guess what she was going to say.

"It's time to kick some monster's butt."


	9. Strategies

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

**Elenrod:** Good to hear that; I was worried that an all-dialogue chapter would be boring, but I felt like I had to write it to fill everyone in on Moran's background.

**Sean Malloy-1:** I've read 'Artemis Fowl', but I don't think I really need it for 'LXG 2004'; I've got a pretty good line-up already.

**Drakena the Destroyer:** Oh, believe me, they'll be giving Moran a right battering when the time comes...

**Clez:** Glad you like the flow from one point to another. Regarding the Mina thing, I'm assuming that, with some injuries, such as those that would cripple a normal human, she takes longer to heal than she would otherwise, and since Moran's bullet shattered her thigh bone, Mina's body is having to take its time healing.

AN: Just to clarify, this story is set just after the rest of the League have woken up. Hartdegen, Nemo, Jekyll and Frank have been filled in on the identity of the Beast, but that's about it.

Legacy

Jekyll blinked in horror at the news he'd just heard. "So, y-you're saying that this... this _Beast_... is actually a former agent of Moriarty's? With the powers of Edward, Mrs Harker, _and _Mr Skinner?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Sawyer replied, as he looked around at the other recently recovered League members. "He also has an aim that could probably equal Allan on his best day, with any kind of weapon he can lay his hands on. I think we can safely say this guy is bad news."

"And we created him..." Nemo said, his face contorting in pain at the thought.

"No, Nemo," Mina said, looking over at the captain. "Even if you believe that we are responsible for what Colonel Moran has become because he bears our powers, you and Agent Sawyer are innocent parties in this whole affair; the only League members who bear any blame are Doctor Jekyll, Mr Skinner, and myself."

"And even they aren't responsible for this... _thing_," Sawyer put in suddenly. Jekyll blinked in surprise; Tom's voice sounded almost angry. Angry at what?

Sawyer looked around at the other four members of the original League, his face reminding Jekyll of a statue with its frozen, neutral expression. Only his eyes gave any indication that he was angry at something; angrier than even Hyde had ever been.

"Get this into your heads, guys; We are _not _to blame for the Beast's existence, OK?" he said, taking time to emphasise each word. "You even _start _to think that you could have done something different that would have stopped him coming into existence, and I'll send to hospital, regardless of your powers. We made our choices, Gray made his, _he_ nicked your abilities, and now we're just dealing with the consequences. Got that?"

The League simply nodded. He may have been one of the youngest members of the team, but Sawyer was still their unofficial leader, and he hadn't earned that title by being a pushover.

"Good," Sawyer said, nodding at them all briefly. "Now then, to business. We need to come up with a plan of attack to take care of Moran as soon as possible; he's too powerful to be left active. Frank, Nemo, you two-"

"Wait wait wait wait wait," Skinner put in, waving his arms frantically. "Are you telling me you _still_ want to fight this thing?"

"Yeah," Sawyer said, looking over at Skinner. "You have a problem with that?"

"Well, of COURSE I have a problem with it!" Skinner yelled. "Sawyer, look at us; Terry and Logan are only active because Terry can't be hurt and Logan heals really fast, Mina's still recovering from getting her hip practically _shattered_, Jekyll has a hole in his hand and scars that make him look like he just got out of target practice in which he was the target, Frank has a punctured lung and would be _dead_ if he was human, and if you stuck the rest of us together, you'd get a man with injuries that were all but fatal. We belong in the intensive care ward, not in the fight of a lifetime!"

"We can still win this fight, Mr Skinner," Nemo said simply.

"Oh, sure; maybe he'll die from laughing when he sees us challenging him," Skinner groaned, before a false smile spread across his face. "Hey, maybe the bastard'll _cripple_ somebody this time!"

"_Nobody_ will be crippled, Skinner," Sawyer said, looking at the thief in a criticising manner. "You need to take into account; this time, we _know _what we're facing. He had the edge over us last time in that we didn't know what we were dealing with, while he knew a great deal about us. He's lost the element of surprise, and we now have a better idea of what we need to stop him."

"Namely?" Terry asked, his voice as emotionless as ever.

"More brute strength then we'd normally need," Sawyer said. He looked over at Hartdegen. "Sorry to have to do this, Hartdegen, but..."

"We're going to need Joseph again?" Hartdegen asked, naming the muscular alter ego he'd called upon on their last mission.

"Yeah..." Sawyer said, nodding slightly. He knew how much Hartdegen was secretly afraid of his other self, even after only one experience; the League only knew a part of how much Jekyll secretly hated his Hyde aspect even as much as he was learning to channel it. Even after only one experience, Hartdegen had been complaining of a nagging voice in the back of his head for the next couple of days, and he had made it clear to the League that he wouldn't call on Seeqe again unless they had no other alternative.

But they all knew that this was such an occasion.

* * *

"So... what's the plan?" Logan asked, in an attempt to breach the awkward silence that had settled after Sawyer's last statement.

"Oh, yeah, that," Sawyer said, stopping his earlier train of thought. "Well, the way I see it, the Beast's main advantage in enclosed quarters is that only a limited number of us can attack him, which gives him the advantage in terms of damage he can inflict. So our best bet is to lure him into an open area where we can all attack him at once, and then find a way to ensure his invisibility can't help him take us down. Got anything that could do that?" he asked Nemo.

Nemo nodded almost at once. "I have," he said. "Recently, I have been developing guns which spray paint rather than fire bullets, much like the water pistols I developed a while back for use on vampires. If I send down to the _Nautilus_ for them, I can have four of them delivered to us in a matter of minutes."

"Perfect," Sawyer said, nodding in approval at Nemo before he turned his attention to Skinner and Jekyll. "You two know London's secrets better than any of us; can you think of the best place to face something like the Beast in a combat situation?"

Jekyll and Skinner looked at each other, each one with a slight smile on their faces. It was almost as though they already had an option in their minds before Sawyer had even asked the question.

"The square?" Jekyll asked Skinner.

"Best place I can think of," Skinner replied, a slight smile crossing his lips as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Besides, after we tore up Piccadilly Circus fighting the Morlocks, it's the only place left, isn't it?"

"Excuse me, but are you talking about where I think you're talking about?" Terry put in, his usual blunt manner failing to betray any signs of emotion.

"Yeah, good point there, Terry," Sawyer said, nodding in thanks at their most curious member before turning back to Jekyll and Skinner. "Would we be wrong in assuming you're referring to... Trafalgar Square?"

Jekyll nodded. "Correct, Tom."

Skinner smiled. "Absolutely on the mark, my good man."

Noting the sceptical expressions of the other League members, Skinner shrugged. "Well, where else are we going to get the space needed to tackle this bastard?"

"_Anywhere_ but there," Mina said. "Mr Skinner, there will be innocent people there. Admittedly, they may be some of the less... reputable members of society, but still, we are the League. We are _not _going to endanger the innocent, no matter who they are."

"Actually, I was thinking of asking Mycroft to seal the square off to the public for the duration of the crisis," Jekyll put in. "After all, we have the ear of the British Secret Service; we might as well use it."

Sawyer looked like he was about to automatically object o Jekyll's argument, but then took a couple of seconds to think about it and nodded.

"Good plan, guys," he said, nodding at them. He looked over at Terry and Logan. "You guys find where they put our clothes and then contact Mycroft with our new plan. Tell him to cordon off Trafalgar Square as soon as possible, regardless of what excuse he has to give, and then send down a message to the _Nautilus _for those paint guns Nemo mentioned." He looked around at Mina, Jekyll, and Frank. "Think you guys will be in good enough condition to fight?" he asked them; of all the League, they were in the worst condition.

Mina nodded. "My hip has nearly recovered from Moran's bullet, Tom, " she assured him. "I won't be winning any running races, but my strength should be unhampered, as should my speed in the air."

"Pretty much the same over here," Jekyll put in, raising one hand. "Edward won't be able to hit with his left hand that much, but otherwise he'll be as good as he ever is in a struggle."

"I won't last as long as I normally would in a fight, but I'll still be able to do some damage," Frank said, sitting up in bed as he spoke, clutching the hole in his chest as a brief spark of pain spread from the wound. "Just... don't push me too hard, OK?"

"Excellent," Sawyer said, as he looked around at the League. "Once we're at Trafalgar, everyone is to get into a good position to attack the Beast from, and then..."

He stopped talking, sighed, and looked over at Mina.

"Sorry to dump this on you, Mina, but we're going to need you to lure Moran into the trap," he sighed. "I mean, you're the fastest out of all of us, and you'd be able to hold him back if he gets too close to catching you, even if only for a little while. Can you...?"

Mina nodded, a smile on her lips. "I'll be fine, Tom," she assured him. "I've been in worse shape then this and survived. I think I can outrace Moran in either vampire form or as the Beast."

"Right," Sawyer said, as he looked over at the others, his eyes falling on Terry and Logan. "Get going, guys. We've got a one man army to crush."


	10. Trafalgar Conflicts

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but Colonel Moran is the property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the League are the assorted properties of Mark Twain, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Robert Louis Stevenson, Bram Stoker, Mary Shelley, James Cameron, and Marvel Comics.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

**Elenrod:** Compliments are always welcome, but I can't guarantee faster updates; I'll just have to see how things work out.

**Clez: **Approval from you is as uplifting as chocolate, and I shall endeavour to ensure that the Trafalgar Square showdown does not disappoint.

**Drakena the Destroyer:** I assure you, the Beast shall be dealt with; he'll see soon enough why the League are so dangerous… By the way, thanks for the offer regarding Frank, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to do anything with it; I lost the program I stored my web site on, and I haven't been able to replace it.

Legacy

Once he heard the news, Sawyer didn't even stop to button his shirt. He leapt out of his bed, his feet bare and he shirt flapping open, walked out of the door, down the corridor, and right into Mycroft's office.

"What the HELL are you playing at?!" he yelled at the large government agent as he sat behind his desk.

"What are you talking about, Agent Sawyer?" Mycroft asked casually, from where he reclined in his large leather chair.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Mycroft; don't play the innocent with me, OK?" Sawyer said, grabbing the edge of the desk and leaning menacingly towards the government employee. "Why, may I ask, have you refused us permission to cordon off Trafalgar Square after Terry and Logan made it _crystal clear _that the Beast is dangerous and must be neutralised at all costs?!"

"Agent Sawyer, please calm yourself," Mycroft said, sitting back casually in his chair as he looked at the young American. "My reasons were simple enough; I simply do not find it practical to seal off Trafalgar Square to the public solely because you feel it would make a good location to combat this current threat. There are other locations, just as capable of providing you with a good battleground, which are less public-"

"The fact that it's public is what makes it such a good choice for the fight, Mycroft!" Sawyer yelled, slamming the palm of his hand down on the ground. "It's big, open, normally undefended, and the last place Moran would expect us to set a trap!"

"Moran?" Mycroft blinked, looking at Sawyer in surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

"That's who the Beast _really _is, Mycroft!" Sawyer yelled at the large man. "An employee of the man who killed your _brother_! Does that make any difference to your ideas about whether or not our efforts are worth it?"

Mycroft seemed momentarily dazed, but then recovered.

"Agent Sawyer," he began, sounding almost impatient, "As an official of the British Government, I have been trained not to let emotion get in the way of performing my duties, and as your superior, you have-"

Sawyer laughed. "Superior?" he said, sounding only half-jocular as he spoke. "Mycroft, don't try and kid yourself, OK? You are not our superior, nor are you our friend, our comrade, or anything other than our associate, OK? We only stay in contact with you so that we've got a bit of authority in these parts, and don't ever tell yourself differently; we may regard you as our equal, but you're _not _our superior, got that?"

Mycroft stood up, his face a mask of anger- the first real emotion Sawyer had ever seen him show- and stared the spy in the eyes.

"Do you have any idea of the penalty for talking to the head of British Intelligence like that, Agent Sawyer?" he asked the young man. "I could have you imprisoned for behaviour like that."

"Quit with the empty threats, Mycroft," Sawyer retorted, starting to get ever more annoyed at the large man. "You know as well as I do that no self-respecting government agent would imprison a member of the _League_; we're the best line of defence this country has! Hell, we're the best line of defence the _world_'s got against the more remarkable threats that are cropping up in this century! You wouldn't put any of us away, Mycroft, and we both know it."

He stepped back from the desk, trying to put some distance between the angry government official and himself; he didn't want to be knocked out a second time, particularly not with the upcoming struggle with the Beast…

Of course, that might not be a problem if Mycroft wouldn't cordon off Trafalgar Square for them.

Mycroft stared at Sawyer for a few seconds, and then sat back down. "We should not fight, Agent Sawyer," he said, his voice calm once again. "We may have different means of doing things, but our end objectives are the same." He nodded, a small gesture that might have gone unnoticed if Sawyer's eyesight hadn't been as good as it was. "I shall cordon off Trafalgar Square for you. Also, should you require any backup for the fight, do not hesitate to ask."

Sawyer smiled briefly at Mycroft. "Thanks but no thanks," he said simply. "This is a League matter, Mycroft; we'd never endanger innocent civilians when it's our responsibility to stop this bastard. We'll be fine."

Mycroft nodded. "Very well, Agent Sawyer," he said simply. "The Square shall be emptied within the hour; I recommend you all prepare yourselves for the fight."

"Right," Sawyer said, as he turned around and walked out of the office. He wasn't surprised in the least at Mycroft's abrupt change of the subject; the guy would do anything if it meant keeping the League on his side.

Of course, he wasn't complaining; as he'd said to Mycroft, no matter what their personal opinions were on him, they still needed his assistance to ensure they could help the maximum amount of people. He just wished that, at times, Mycroft wouldn't be such an arrogant idiot…

Anyway, there was no time for that now.

They had to get together, get those paint guns from the _Nautilus_, get to Trafalgar Square, and then take down the Beast before he could hurt anybody else.

It was time for the show to begin.

First, though, Sawyer had to remember to get his shoes back on…

* * *

"Dammit!" Frank winced, clutching his side in pain as he bumped into Terry. "Watch where you're going, willya? I'm still not quite at a hundred percent yet, you know?"

"I apologise for the accident," Terry replied, his manner as straightforward as ever. "However, we have little time to wait; if we do not hide the guns soon, the Beast shall most likely destroy them as soon as he sees them, and our best chance of success is to keep them concealed until the time is right."

Frank sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know all that, Terry," he sighed, looking at the gun Terry was carrying as he spoke. He understood the necessity to conceal it easily enough; it looked like a normal gun, but far smoother and shinier, with slight specks of colour visible through glass holes that allowed the gun to be refilled with paint when the need arose, coupled with a small heater to prevent the paint solidifying before it could be used. Nemo had selected the typical silver paint he used for all his vehicles these days, mainly because he had no alternatives immediately available, but also because it would stand out more amid the darkened streets.

There was no way Moran could look at it and not suspect they'd find a way to use it against him, so it had to remain hidden until they were ready to use it; Frank just wished his damn lung didn't hurt so much. Even if his nerves were mostly dead, this still wasn't exactly something he could ignore unless he had something else to focus on, and he mostly preferred fighting when it came to ignoring something like this.

"Everything finished yet?" Sawyer called out to his friends from where he was standing at the centre of the Square. At the moment, he and Mina were planting a couple of the guns at the top of the column, the idea being that the Beast wouldn't notice them at such a height, particularly when taking into account the lack of light to make the silver more noticeable.

"Yeah, we're pretty much set over here!" Frank called back to the League's leader, noticing as he spoke that the other League members were coming back from their allocated hiding locations as well.

"Good," Sawyer smiled, as he glanced around at the others. "You guys?"

"The same," Jekyll said. The others nodded in agreement.

"Right then," Sawyer said, as he turned back to look at Mina. "You're up, Mina. The sun's down, we're ready for Moran; all we need is for you to find him. Think you're up to it?"

Mina nodded. "My hip's not quite there yet, but I'll be fast enough, I think," she replied. Closing her eyes briefly, she leapt up into the air, her bat-like wings spreading from her shoulders as she rose into the air and dived down a nearby street.

Sawyer smiled as she vanished, but then his face became more serious as he looked back at Jekyll and Hartdegen.

"You guys better drink that potion of yours," he said. "We're going to need Hyde and Seeqe fairly shortly, and I'd prefer it if we started off with the element of surprise as far as they're concerned."

"Ah, I see," Jekyll nodded. "You're thinking that if we hit the Beast just he comes in, he might be off-balance long enough for us to gain the advantage in the fight?"

"Precisely," Sawyer nodded. He looked over at the others. "Frank, remain at the back, you're still not at your peak, don't fight unless he gets too close to you. Terry; stick close to Hyde and Seeqe; you'll be needed if things get ugly on that front. Skinner, stay ready and don't get too close to him; you might have a certain element of surprise, but I'd rather not use it straight away. Nemo, you're with me on the side; we attack the Beast after he's down, but try and stay out of his reach when he's fully aware."

He pulled out a pistol, slid the hammer back, and looked around at them once again. "This may be the toughest fight we've ever had, guys. Remember; we're a team, and he's only one man. That gives us a certain edge."

* * *

Moran grinned as he eagerly devoured his latest meal; a young woman who'd wandered into his more favoured hunting ground, apparently a prostitute looking for a client. He wondered if she'd heard about the murders he'd been committing lately and decided to brave it anyway, or if she was just stupid and hadn't heard anyway.

He hated idiots.

He heard a faint flapping sound in the air, accompanied by a vague squeaking noise that he recognised all too well these days.

It was a swarm of bats.

And, given the distinct lack of bats in London in numbers like the ones that would be needed to cause this racket, that led him to only one conclusion…

Mrs Harker had come looking for him.

Looking up, he saw her distinctive red-haired form flying through the air, her large black wings gliding through the air while various assorted bats flapped around her, screeching like terrified mice.

_Might as well make that part of the description accurate_, Moran thought to himself, as he stood up, leaving the hooker's half-savaged body to decompose at his feet. Grinning, he closed his eyes, and felt the power of the Beast wash over him. In the early days of his new existence he'd found the feeling of the spikes popping out of his face a little disconcerting, but now he rarely noticed it when they came out; he just treated it as a mild itch that would stop sooner if he ignored it.

Plus, the large muscles and the wings more than made up for that little annoyance…

Leaping into the air, Moran flew eagerly towards Harker, already planning what he'd do to her first. Simple murder was an option- after all, his claws were more than sharp enough for the job- but, given her stamina, he felt like maybe prolonging the experience; after all, it was so difficult to get a decent bit of action now…

However, it was going to have to wait; he noticed, much to his annoyance, that the vampire was flying away from him and diving down towards the streets.

Smirking, he charged down after her. _Might as well show this bitch why I'm the best…_ he thought to himself, as he ducked and weaved through the streets of London. The narrow alleyways, the wider mains streets, those streets somewhere in between… nothing was impossible for him. His bulk may appear cumbersome, but he could manoeuvre through these streets like he was only a normal vampire.

He grinned as he saw the fleeing form of Mina Harker tearing along in front of him. He was getting closer.

Closer…

Closer…

Suddenly, he noticed a large wooden barrier in front of him, blocking off all entrance to the area ahead. He thought he vaguely saw a large pillar in front of him, but was going too fast to fully process it.

He crashed through the barrier…

And was instantly hurled down into the floor by two large, powerful fists simultaneously slamming into his face.


	11. The Beast and the League

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but Colonel Moran is the property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the League are the assorted properties of Mark Twain, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Robert Louis Stevenson, Bram Stoker, Mary Shelley, James Cameron, and Marvel Comics.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

**Clez:** Glad it went down well; I was worried it may have a couple of problems. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?

**Elenrod:** Glad it's going well, and I hope that the upcoming battle scene won't disappoint.

Legacy

As the Beast fell to the ground, Hyde didn't even stop to give himself a chance to remember the original strategy or even ask Seeqe for some help; he just leapt onto the massive lizard-like form and started pounding away for all he was worth.

His left fist constantly felt wracked with pain as he struck at the Beast's leathery hide, the wound in between his knuckles bleeding slightly with each passing moment, but he refused to give up. He acknowledged that many outside the League regarded him as a monster, but even monsters could know fear, of a sort.

And this Beast, this _thing _that he was fighting?

He feared it.

He hated it for making him fear it.

And he wanted nothing more than to see it dead.

_Watch out!_ Henry yelled in his head.

"Wha-" Hyde began to say, before he was interrupted by the Beast's forehead crashing into his, the sharp bones cutting his cheeks and breaking his nose.

Roaring in pain, Hyde lashed out at the Beast with one final desperate punch, and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch in the chest that could only be one of the monster's ribs, before he found himself thrown through the air to crash right into a nearby house, displacing large quantities of masonry before his massive bulk settled.

* * *

"HYDE!!" Seeqe roared in horror, before charging forward and leaping onto the already- wounded Beast, grabbing the monster's arms.

"You can kill all the people you like and we'll just treat you as a professional case, Moran!" Seeqe yelled at the monster in front of him. "But lay so much as ONE CLAW on Hyde, and you are GOING DOWN, you SON OF A BITCH!!!!"

And, enraged and uncaring about his opponent's incredible strength, he twisted one arm so far that it broke, grabbed two of the horns on Moran's face with his now-free hand, and yanked them off.

Moran roared in agony as Seeqe's fist pulled up into the air, clutching the bony protrusions in his fists, before he plunged them back down towards Moran's eyes.

Displaying a focus that was almost unbelievable through all the pain he must have sustained, Moran yanked Seeqe's remaining arm right into the path of his makeshift daggers, with the result that Seeqe impaled his own wrist with the blades. As Seeqe howled in agony, Moran punched him so hard on the chin that it threw him back into another wall, a couple of buildings down from Hyde.

* * *

"Ah, crap," Skinner whispered to Sawyer, as Moran looked towards the small gathering of Sawyer, Nemo and Skinner. "He's spotted us, Tom…"

"I know that, Skinner," Sawyer mumbled back in reply, as he reached under his waistcoat and pulled out his Colts. "Now, no offence, but maybe you could let me try and distract this bastard to give the others a chance to get into position?"

"OK, OK, geez, chill out…" Skinner groaned, as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the shotgun Nemo had given him for this mission. He smiled a little as he cocked the weapon, feeling a bit more confident as he felt it in his hands. He may be a crap shot, but with a target the size of the Beast and the shot range on this weapon, how could he miss?

Looking over at Nemo, he was relieved to see that the captain had pulled out his sword, and was holding it up and ready to strike. Somehow, that always made Skinner feel more comfortable, no matter how much weaponry he was packing himself; the memories of the League's first fight in Gray's library would never truly go away.

"Moran!" Sawyer yelled at the monster in front of them, twirling his guns around his fingers once as he walked closer to the monster before him. "Leave them alone, and tackle me, if you're not afraid."

Moran laughed as he looked at the young American. "So, you worked out who I am, hmm?" he smirked, his harsh, throaty voice tinged with malice. "Tell me, do you really think that'll make any difference? I'm still far more powerful than any of you could ever be!"

"Key word there, Moran; _any _of us," Sawyer said, as he slid back the hammers on his pistols. "Oh, you could stop any one of us in a fight, I'll give you that, but all nine of us? I doubt it."

Raising his guns, he fired four shots at Moran's still-bleeding facial injuries, the bullets burrowing themselves into Moran's jaw. Roaring, Moran charged towards the three League members, only to find himself suddenly staring into the rapidly-growing barrel of a shotgun.

"Eat lead, Colonel!" Skinner yelled, as he pulled the trigger and fired at Moran's chest. The pellets didn't penetrate the Beast's strong hide, but they did knock him back slightly, their sheer force briefly leaving him dazed. Nemo took the chance instantly, charging forward to slash at the Beast's chest, leaving several long scratches on it before the creature managed to retaliate with a powerful blow that threw the Indian into the air.

"NEMO!" Sawyer and Skinner yelled, as their friend hurtled through the air beside them heading towards the buildings behind them. Sawyer instinctively started to run after Nemo, even though he knew he couldn't reach him in time, his friend would die before he could come close to saving him…

* * *

And then Hyde's large arms grabbed Nemo, halting his descent towards the wall, and put him back on the ground.

"Don't make a habit of that," Hyde grunted to the captain, as Nemo turned to look at his saviour, whose right hand appeared to be getting progressively worse. "We don't have the time for that to be a constant feature of this fight."

"Right," Nemo nodded his thanks, before turning to look at the Beast from where it was staring in horror at him. "Get it."

"Right," Hyde said, turning to face his opponent. "Terry! Frank! Attack Tri! Moran dies today!"

Then he charged towards the Beast, his feet pounding on the ground, his fists raised to strike at the Beast. Looking around, Nemo quickly realised what his friend had meant by 'Attack Tri'; the other two League members he'd called for were charging towards Moran in a formation that resembled a rapidly shrinking triangle, Terry attacking Moran from the right and Frank from the left, although Frank wasn't moving as fast as the other two.

Looking around at what was coming for him, Moran just swallowed, smirked, spread his wings, and leapt up into the air.

"Oh no you don't!" Hyde roared, as he leapt into the air, grabbing onto Moran's foot. "You're not getting away that easily, you bastard!"

* * *

Sawyer groaned as he watched the almost comical sight in front of him. This whole thing was not going according to plan; he'd been hoping that Hyde and Seeqe would manage to do enough damage to the Beast before he threw took them out for the rest of the League to stop him a bit quicker, but Hyde's hot-headedness had forced him to change all his strategies in a matter of seconds, and he wasn't even sure what he could do now to salvage the situation.

Then, things got worse.

Hyde fell off.

"Ha!" Moran yelled, grinning broadly as he began to flap back up into the air while Hyde lay amid the rubble that had been the roof of London's underground train service. "Nice try, League, but I must fly!"

"Not if I can help it," a voice said off to the side.

"Wha-" Moran began, starting to turn in the direction of the voice before he suddenly found himself struck in the side by a fast, angry, and powerful winged vampire, that started to punch him on the wounds he'd already sustained.

Roaring with a rage that Sawyer could rarely recall her displaying, Mina spun in a circle in the air, slashing at Moran with her two daggers and her heeled boots, tearing through his reptile-like hide in her blind anger…

And then Moran grabbed her throat.

"Bad little vampire," he said mockingly as he looked at her, spitting some blood from a cut into her face. "Hitting your betters?" He smirked. "I'll have to teach you some manners."

Grabbing Mina's left arm with his free hand, he jerked it rapidly, and smiled as she screamed at the loud crack that resounded through the square. Then, releasing her neck, he grabbed her right leg and raised her broken body above his head, before throwing her towards the ground….

Only to witness her being grabbed before hitting the ground by the large, albeit slightly dazed, form of Joseph Seeqe.

Moran laughed. "You think that'll do anything for you?" he said, smirking slightly as he spoke. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Then again, I've been fighting you on equal terms up until now. Maybe I should just move into the final stages of this game…"

"What?" Sawyer asked, trying to sound like he hadn't been expecting Moran to say that. "What are you going to do now?"

"This," Moran grinned.

He vanished into thin air, the small scraps of his trousers all that were left of him that the League could see.

Sawyer grinned.

At least _that _had gone according to plan.

"Logan!" he yelled up at the top of the column. "Plan Hull, _now_!"

* * *

Only Terry, Hyde, and Seeqe could see Moran's reaction to that news now, and of those three, Terry alone could appreciate the full scene in front of him in all its detail. He watched as Moran turned in confusion to look at the column, his eyes widening as he saw the small, dirty form of Logan rise from his hiding place behind Lord Nelson, the large paint gun in his hand. Quickly, Moran reached down to his tattered trousers as though to tear them off, presumably to try and escape from Logan by depriving him of a visual target.

It was an intelligent attempt to escape, Terry had to admit, as Moran's trousers fell to the ground (Terry adjusted his infrared's focus instantly; he may have been a machine, but there were some things even he didn't want to have to look at), and he flew to the left, moving in closer to Logan.

Logan sniffed briefly, smiled, raised the gun in his hands, and fired it directly at Moran. The Beast was so shocked he didn't even have the time to dodge the blast; the sheer force of the silver paint in his chest threw him back a few feet in the air, as well as covering his entire chest and a sizable portion of his face, arms, and legs with glowing silver paint.

"_What the hell_??!!!" he roared, staring down at his body in horror. "How the _hell _did you do _that_?!"

"We're the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Moran," Logan smirked, as he put the gun down and shifted into a combat stance. "We can do _anything_."

His claws burst from his hands and he leapt towards the massive form in front of him, slashing away at Moran's still-open wounds, now covered in paint and obviously hurting far more than before.

Roaring, Moran punched Logan in the chest again, throwing the small man back onto the roof of a nearby building. A loud crack was heard as Logan struck the roof, before he fell back down to the square, his back twisted in a hideous manner. His back was broken, and even with his rapid healing ability, he definitely wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

"_Logan_!" the League yelled in horror, their concern for their friend briefly driving the Beast out of their minds.

Unfortunately.

* * *

"Well well," Moran smirked, as he grabbed Sawyer by the throat and held him up in the air, as the rest of the League turned back to face him. He may have been covered in so much cuts that he resembled a patchwork quilt, but he still looked ready for action, and none of them were fooling themselves into thinking it would be an easy struggle. "This _is _interesting, isn't it?"

"Let him go," Mina said, staring at Moran with an icy gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, why should I do that?" Moran smirked, as he ran one long claw along Sawyer's jaw line. "I mean, you claim that you're stronger than me because you are a League and I'm just one man, don't you? Why should I let him go when you can just _make _me, hmm?"

"I _said_… Let. _Him_. _GO_!!" Mina roared…

And she threw one of her daggers directly at Moran's face, lodging it in his left eye.

Screaming in agony, Moran dropped Sawyer as he yanked the dagger out of his eye, blood pouring out of the hole where it had once been.

Looking back at their massive foe as he screamed in pain, Sawyer smiled.

Now or never.

"League…" he said, as he leapt onto his feet and pulled out his Colts, "_attack_!!"

Instantly, Nemo and Skinner pulled out their own weapons and fired rapidly at Moran. The buckets that didn't hit his wounds often put so much strain on his already-tender hide that they created new ones, and the sheer force of the bullets was enough to daze Moran by themselves.

As soon as their guns clicked empty, the three of them stood aside, allowing Frank, Logan, Terry, and Mina to take up the attack. Logan launched the first assault, slashing away at Moran with his claws, before Terry, Mina, and Frank began to launch their own attack, Terry managing to tear off another bone before the four of them stepped back to allow Hyde and Seeqe the final strike.

Roaring in rage at the powerful foe in front of them, Hyde and Seeqe charged forward, Seeqe tackling Moran from the front while Hyde tore away at him from behind, only breaking away when a loud crack was heard; Hyde had broken the Beast's left wing.

"NNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Moran yelled, as he struck out desperately, throwing the two massive figures back. Just as the rest of the League were preparing to strike, he leapt up into the air, lagging down slightly on the left because of his bad wing.

"You're bailing out now?" Sawyer asked, smiling a little as he slid his Colts back into their holsters. "What happened to you being better than us?"

"Shut up," Moran growled, as he looked down at the League. "The day is yours for now, League, but I shall be back; don't doubt that."

Then he flapped away, lagging down to the side as he slowly vanished from view over the tops of the London buildings.


	12. EPILOGUE: Dark Alliance

Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but Colonel Moran is the property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the League are the assorted properties of Mark Twain, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Robert Louis Stevenson, Bram Stoker, Mary Shelley, James Cameron, and Marvel Comics.

Feedback: I would REALLY appreciate some of it.

**Elenrod: **Glad it went down well; I was a bit worried about it.And, as you can see, there is one chapter left, but after that, I'm moving on to another story…

**Ten Mara: **Oh, believe me, he'll be back; in fact, there's a hint as to how at the end of this chapter…

**Clez: **Glad to hear you liked the visuals; I've never tried to write such a long battle scene before, and was worried I may have not done a good job of it.

Legacy

The League just watched as Moran gradually vanished into the night sky above them. Just as his silver form was about to disappear from view, Skinner turned to look at Sawyer.

"Do we go after him?" the thief asked his friend.

Sawyer shook his head. "No, it doesn't really seem worth it," he said, as he put his Colts back into their holsters. "We've driven him off for now, and he doesn't exactly look like he's going to be capable of much action any time soon, to matter how fast he heals. We should probably stick around for a while in case he comes back, but personally, I doubt it."

"Yeah," Seeqe grunted from behind Sawyer, holding one of his arms tenderly; it looked like it had been injured when the Beast threw him back. "I agree; Moran's smart. He won't stick around if he knows we'll be here to beat him about like _that_ again, but that doesn't mean he won't try and come back later on."

Mina smiled slightly as she walked up to stand beside Tom. "Well, in any case, I think it would be for the best if we stayed in London for a while," she said, looking affectionately at the young spy beside her. "If nothing else we could do with some time back among humanity; we've been living alone for far too long."

Skinner smiled. "Yeah, I like _that_ idea," he said, tipping his hat in a thanking manner to Mina. "I mean," he said, looking over at Nemo, "no offence to the _Nautilus_, but it's bloody hard to get a decent beer down there these days."

Nemo simply smiled. "No offence taken, Mr Skinner," he said, nodding at his friend. "I acknowledge that we all have different tastes in some matters; we cannot all be alike. If you wish to stay in London for a time, I shall not object."

Sawyer looked over at the rest of the League, who nodded in agreement.

"Good," the young agent said, smiling around at his friends. "It's decided; we're staying here for a while." Then a thought occurred to him, and he looked over at Logan and Frank. "You two going to be sticking around?"

Frank and Logan looked at each other briefly, and then Logan shrugged and looked back at the League.

"Maybe just for a couple of days," he said, smiling slightly at his friends. "Then we should probably be going."

Hyde coughed. "Sorry to spoil the moment, but can we get going?" he asked his friends. "The formula's nearly done, and I'd rather like to get out of the public eye before it runs out."

"Oh, sorry about that," Sawyer said, as he turned and started to walk towards the small alley where they'd parked the League-mobile. "Let's go. Mycroft probably wants my bloody report anyway…"

* * *

_Dammit!_ Moran thought, as a fresh spasm of pain tore through his damaged wing. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been flying for anymore; all he knew for sure was that he'd left London, had flown over a lot of water for a bit, and was now just trying his best to keep up with a boat that he'd spotted below him.

He didn't like to admit being lost, but at the moment, he really needed to get to land, and stuff his pride; It wouldn't do him any good to end up dead before he got a chance to tackle the League again.

Then he heard something from the boat.

A voice. Vague, nearly inaudible at this height, but still just loud enough for him to pick a few words…

Including his name.

Blinking in surprise, Moran dived down towards the boat. Right now, he didn't even care who could know he was; it couldn't be the League, he knew, and that was all that mattered.

He landed on the boat, feet first, and briefly winced when a sharp pain shot through one leg; he'd need to check that out later. Then he looked at the figure standing in front of him, and blinked in surprise.

It was a man, apparently in good health, dressed in a black suit and a long black cloak with fur around the edges, carrying a black-and-silver stick in his right hand. His left arm and shoulder sagged down slightly, as though he was holding something heavy in that hand, and he was wearing a silver mask with holes in it for the right eye and mouth, the left side of which was pulled down slightly in a similar manner to the arm. The mask had a tiny fin on the back of it, along with little spikes of metal around the edges of the mouth hole, and three lines scratched into each side of it near the neck. Overall, it reminded Moran of a shark.

"Who are you?" he asked the figure, growling a little as he spoke.

"Ah, you're direct," the man replied, twirling the cane briefly. "Good; I like that in my colleagues. My name is Huckleberry Finn, but most of my business acquaintances know me as the Shark."

"Really?" Moran asked, looking at Finn curiously. "And why did you call me down?"

"Simple," Finn smiled, looking at Moran. "I've been searching for you for the last few weeks; I understand we share a common adversary in the form of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?"

Moran looked over at Finn, trying not to show his sudden eagerness and curiosity.

"And what, pray tell, makes you think I am their enemy?" he asked the man in front of him, trying to sound casual.

"Well, if nothing else, only they could have left you looking like that," Finn said, indicating Moran's various injuries with his stick. "Plus, the fact that they killed your superior and friend, James Moriarty, would do little to endear them to you, I'm guessing?"

Moran stared blankly at Finn.

"Surprised I know about that?" Finn smiled. "Don't be; I have quite a few contacts in the world of crime." Then he laughed a little. "And a few contacts in the American Secret Service, of course."

"The American Secret Service?" Moran asked, looking at Finn in surprise. "How did you manage that?"

"I was a member, once," Finn said casually. Then he clenched his fists so tight that the knuckles turned white, a low growl emanating from him. "Then Tom Sawyer betrayed me and left me to die."

Moran blinked at that comment. He couldn't say he exactly liked the American much either- after all, he _had _fired the shot that had killed James- but he still didn't think Agent Sawyer was the kind to do something like that. Presumably something had happened and Finn believed the American to be responsible simply because he couldn't think of another explanation…

Then Moran shrugged that thought off. What did it matter to him? If this guy was an adversary of the League's now, that was enough for Moran to consider him a friend. 'The enemy of my enemy', and all that.

"So, would I be correct in assuming you are interested in forming an alliance?" he asked Finn, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

Finn nodded. "Indeed," he said. "I have a few other individuals I'm going to be trying to track down for this endeavour, but, without know who they are, would you be interested?"

Moran smiled. "Naturally," he said, holding out one hand. "Consider me your new partner, Mr Finn."

Finn took the hand and shook it.


End file.
